Class of 1987
by PonchoLives
Summary: A murder at a high school reunion leads Nick and Warrick into a tangled web of lies and deceit where nothing is as it seems.
1. Chapter 1

Title: "Class of 1987"

Author: PonchoLives

Category: Drama/Angst

Disclaimer: I own nothing except that laptop that this story was composed on.

Summary: A murder at a high school reunion leads Nick and Warrick into a tangled web of lies and deceit where nothing is as it seems.

Chapter One

Fifteen years. He hadn't walked through these doors in fifteen years. Truth be told, he had never planned on walking through them again. He had just wanted to forget this place and everything it represented in his mind. Dashed hopes. Broken promises. Shattered lives.

Everything changed though when he received that phone call.

The voice on the other end of the line had brought back so many old memories. Many of them happy ones, but also ones that he had tried desperately to forget. It was then that he decided to go back and make things right. After all, there was still time.  
Jack Moyer's heart pounded a bit as he strode purposefully up the steps and glanced up at the banner above the door that said "Welcome back Class of 1987" with a sense of foreboding. He sighed, straightened his tie, and pulled open the door of Lincoln High School. He was immediately assaulted by loud music on his right. The doors to the gymnasium stood open, bidding him re-entrance into the world of 1987.

"Well, if we're gonna party like it's 1987, I better get into character." Jack muttered to himself. In a flash, he dropped his tired yet determined countenance and replaced it with a jovial, warm expression.

He entered the gym, which had been bedecked in the school's colors of green and silver. There were various objects of school spirit paraphernalia throughout the room, including various sports jerseys from that era which had been tacked up on the wall. The words "Go Saints!" had been blazoned across a banner above them. He suppressed a chuckle. He could not understand people's desire to relive their high school days.

"I'd know that face anywhere! Jack Moyer! How are you? So glad you could make it!" the blonde at the check-in table said to him.

She was wearing a name badge, but Jack didn't need to look at it. She was Tammy Green, head cheerleader during their senior year. She was clad in a tight, low cut, red dress, looking as if she just stepped out of the pages of Vogue.

"Hi Tammy. It's good to see you again." Jack smiled, taking the name badge she held out for him.

He peeked at it briefly before pinning it to his coat and saw his 18-year-old reflection smiling back at him. Had he ever been that young? That carefree?

Tammy gave him a coy smile and leaned forward, an act that greatly accentuated her already large bosom. "We missed you at the 10-year reunion! It was quite scandalous when the Class President didn't attend!"

"I know, I know. I had a lot on my plate at work when reunion time rolled around. Just couldn't get away." Jack smiled through the lie. He could have attended the reunion, but he hadn't wanted to. The last thing he wanted to do was come back to this place.

Until now.

"Well, all's forgiven now! You're here now! Promise to save me a dance!" She flirtatiously tossed her blonde hair and gave him a wink.

"I promise." Jack said with another smile. He turned away, glad to leave the woman behind. In high school, Tammy had tried harder than anyone to "nab" him, but had never succeeded in doing so, much to Jack's delight. It was a great accomplishment for a man to escape from Tammy Green's clutches and it was considered to be one of his many high school legacies.

As he walked further into the gym, his eyes began to search the crowd. He'd know the face when he saw it. He had no doubt, but it was difficult to search for one face in a sea of many.

"Jack!" a voice called out behind him.

Jack swivelled his head and saw a sandy haired man approach him eagerly.

"Mark Thomas, good to see you." Jack held out a hand to Mark who shook it with such intensity that Jack felt his arm was going to be ripped out of the socket.

"Oh man, Jack! It's so good to see you! Man, it's been like fifteen years, hasn't it? So how are you, man? Life treating you okay?" Mark's voice was full of excitement and it made Jack smile.

Mark had always been anxious to please him. He had desperately wanted to be part of the "in crowd" but could never quite become one of them. He was always a step behind. Jack couldn't help but pity him. It was apparent that the man was still trying to achieve what he could not during high school. Unfortunately, Jack was not able to give Mark what he wanted and wasn't sure he would if he could. Mark didn't realize that the "in crowd" was overrated and full of nothing but problems.

"I'm good. Hey, can I catch you later? There's someone I need to see." Jack didn't want to get stuck in a long, drawn out conversation with Mark when he had more pressing things to take care of.

Mark seemed slightly disappointed but played it off. "Oh sure, buddy! I'll see you later."

Jack smiled in appreciation and moved away, scanning the crowd once more. As he moved towards the center of the gym, people called his name and waved merrily to him. He responded in kind, but did not take the time to stop and talk to anyone. He could do that later.

Finally, he spotted the face he had been searching for. Their eyes locked and both began to move towards the side exit. The need for privacy was a given as the issue about to be discussed was a delicate one. It was time to deal with it though. Fifteen years was long enough.

* * *

The lab was uncharacteristically quiet tonight. There were no high profile cases. No frantic lab technicians scurrying around the lab. No onslaught of new cases. So for this reason, Nick Stokes and Warrick Brown could be found taking advantage of the quiet by enjoying a few minutes of down time in the break room.

Nick was lounging on the couch, with a lazy grin on his face. His arm was wrapped around a cushion and he was picking at the corner of it while listening with rapt attention as Warrick related a humorous story involving a pickle and a street performer.

"And I'm walking away when all of a sudden something hits me in the back of the head. I turn around and see that stupid pickle lying on the ground. I look up to see that stupid mime faking a big laugh." Warrick gave an impression of the mime laughing which caused his friend to laugh himself.

"I'm telling you, man, there's nothing like having a mime mock you. It'll do wonders to your pride. Anyway, I share a few choice words with him and then Mimey walks up to me and says..." Warrick paused in the middle of his story when Grissom came into the room.

Nick immediately sat up when his supervisor shot him a disapproving look. He replaced his smile with a more serious look.

"I assume that you've solved your cases given the way you're spending your time." Grissom observed dryly.

The younger men nodded.

"Good. You've got a DB at Lincoln High. A man was shot and killed while attending his high school reunion. Brass is waiting for you." Grissom handed Warrick a slip of paper and turned on his heel.

Nick stood up and walked over to Warrick and slapped him on the back. "You'll have to finish your story later, bro. I'll drive."

Nick snatched the paper out of Warrick's hand and walked jauntily out of the break room.

About half an hour later, Nick pulled up in front of Lincoln High. There were a few cop cars out in front of the building, their red and blue lights flashing. The two CSIs excited the SUV and made their way towards the steps of the high school.

"Hey guys. Where's the body?" Nick asked the couple of cops who were standing outside.

"Down the hall and on the left. In the cafeteria." one of them answered and Nick nodded in appreciation.

The sound of the music coming from the gym was wafting through air as they made their way up the steps. They both took note of the banner above the door.

"Class of 1987. No wonder they're playing such crappy music." Warrick muttered.

Nick chuckled lightly. "Well, there are worse things than 80's music - like getting shot."

Warrick shot him an annoyed look which made Nick chuckle again.

As they passed the gym, they glanced inside and saw people milling about. Dancing. Talking. Laughing. No one seemed to be aware that a dead body was lying not too far away. Soon they would know. Soon they would be mourning the loss of one of their own.

Inside the cafeteria, David was huddled over the body and Brass was talking to anxious-looking man. Spotting the CSIs, Brass excused himself from the man and walked over to them.

"Hey fellas. Our victim's name is Jack Moyer, class of 1987. He's a former Vegas resident who now resides in Denver, Colorado. That guy over there is the one who found him. His name is Linton Elwell, the victim's cousin." Brass said over the sound of latex gloves snapping into place.

Warrick glanced at Nick and said, "I'll take the cousin."

"And I'll get started on the body." Nick agreed.

They parted ways as Nick walked over to David, who was just pulling out the thermometer from the victim's liver.

"Hey Nick. Our victim's been dead for a little under three hours. He was shot twice in the back. No visible exit wounds." the young coroner told him.

Nick, his camera in hand, looked at the prone figure of Jack Moyer. After being shot twice, he had presumably fallen forward, landing face down on the cafeteria floor. The blood pool around him was undisturbed, indicating that death had probably been immediate.

"Hit the ground and never got up again." Nick mused as he began to take photos of the body.

"Looks like it." David agreed. "I'm all done here, Nick."

"Thanks, Dave. This won't take long." Nick's eyes shifted towards his partner who was talking to Linton.

Warrick was observing Linton Elwell's appearance and behavior very closely while listening to his statement. Linton was thin and small - a few inches over five feet but not much more - with practically no muscle mass whatsoever. He was a mousy man who wore glasses with thick black frames over his brown eyes.

"I was looking for Jack. He'd been gone for a while and I didn't know where he was so I went to look for him. I stuck my head in here and found him lying on the floor like that and I called the cops. The lady on the phone told me to stay here until you guys showed up so I did." Linton told them, gesturing wildly with his hands. He was very agitated and seemed unable to keep the tone of his voice steady.

"Do you know why Jack wasn't in the gym?" Warrick asked.

"He said that he had to talk to someone." Linton said, his eyes darting all over the place. He kept running a hand over his head in an attempt to flatten the brown hair that refused to lay straight.

"Who was Jack going to talk to?" Brass' tone indicated that he did not have much hope for an informative answer.

"I don't know! He didn't tell me!" Linton wailed. Tears began to leak from the corners of his eyes. He yanked his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes before jamming the glasses back onto his face.

"I don't know who would do this to Jack! Everybody loved him! Everybody got along with him! Why would someone want to kill him?" Linton sniffed and wiped his hand under his nose.

Brass and Warrick exchanged looks. It was a little embarrassing to see a grown man behave in this manner. Warrick fought the desire to tell the man to get a grip and instead tried to show some compassion. After all, it must have been upsetting to stumble across the dead body of your cousin. It seemed that the two men had been close.

"Mr. Elwell, do you know what time Jack left to talk to this person? Was there a specified meeting time?" Warrick asked in an attempt to get the man to focus.

"No. I don't even know what time he arrived at the reunion. We spoke on the phone earlier today and he mentioned that he needed to talk to some people." The man started to fidget with the hem of his sweater vest in a distracting manner.

"So he was going to talk to more than one person?" Warrick asked, trying to clarify things.

"Yeah, I guess. I don't know. He didn't tell me much about it, but I got the impression that it was important." Linton said.

Warrick sighed inwardly. He gave Brass a look that said he was done with Linton.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Elwell. If we have any more questions, we'll let you know." Brass said with a smile.

Warrick walked over to Nick. "How's it going over here?"

"I've got a couple of theories, but not much physical evidence. I did find two shell casings though and I'm assuming that they're from tonight's shooting." Nick held up two evidence bags for Warrick to see. He nodded in the direction of Linton. "What about you?"

Warrick shook his head in a dismissive manner. "He said that the victim was going to talk to someone but didn't know who. He's an emotional mess. Maybe you should talk to him. That's your area of expertise after all."

Nick shot him an annoyed look.

"Okay. What are you thinking?" Warrick asked, turning his thoughts to the case.

"Well, our vic was shot twice in the back. I'm guessing the loud music playing in the gym masked the sound of the gunfire." Nick said.

"That makes sense. The music's definitely loud enough." Warrick agreed.

Nick continued with his thoughts. "As to our killer, my first guess is that it was an act of revengeful cowardice given that he was shot in the back. The murderer wasn't even able to look his victim in the face. The second one, which could tie in with the first, is that he was killed by someone who was weak enough for the victim to overpower if he or she had been right in front of him. I'm thinking that whoever the victim was meeting with waited until his back was turned before shooting him."

"Bottom line is that I think someone at the reunion killed Jack Moyer. This was a murder of opportunity. The killer took advantage of the reunion." Nick concluded.

"If your theory's correct, Jack's relationships with his classmates need to be examined as well as the crime scene." Warrick said, following his partner's train of thought.

Nick's face was lined with determination. "In order to find out who killed Jack Moyer, we need to find out who he was."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Besides the shell casings, nothing else probative had turned up in their search of the cafeteria. Any fingerprints that they found would most likely not do them any good. They could belong to any number of former students who were strolling down memory lane or to current students whose prints had every right to be there. The same would be true of any shoe prints recovered.

Given the lack of physical evidence, Nick and Warrick decided that they should begin the process of getting to know the victim. Who had Jack Moyer been? What was his relationship like with his classmates? Was there anyone who wanted him dead? The person who could best answer these questions right now was Linton Elwell.

The CSIs walked into the gym, which contained a much more notably subdued group. The news of Jack Moyer's death had spread throughout the crowd like a wildfire, thanks in part due to Linton. The music had been turned off and people were huddled in small groups, talking to each other. Their whispers only increased when Nick and Warrick made their towards Linton.

"Mr. Elwell, we have a few more questions for you. Can we talk to you for a moment? In private?" Nick asked.

Linton nodded and whispered something to the red-headed woman he had been talking to. She touched his arm in a sign of supportive comfort before he separated himself from her and followed the CSIs outside of the room.

"Mr. Elwell, we need you to tell us a bit about your cousin. Did he get along with his classmates?" Nick asked. He tried to keep his tone serious and yet casual at the same time so as to soothe Linton's nerves.

Linton hugged himself with his arms as he answered Nick's question. "He was the most popular kid in school. He was senior class president and played catcher for the varsity baseball team. He wasn't one of those guys who was popular because he made fun of others. Jack treated everyone with respect. He was a great guy. Nice. Funny. Smart. Genuine. Everybody liked Jack."

"Who did he hang out with in high school?" Warrick asked.

"Well, Jack hung out with lots of people, but he had a small group of close friends. There was Freddie McFarlane who was his best friend and played on the baseball team with Jack; Victoria Winston who was our Valedictorian; Stella Barnes who starred in almost every school play; Rebekah Prescott who was the school "do-gooder"; and me." Linton rattled off.

Nick and Warrick quickly exchanged glances before Warrick voiced the same question that Nick was thinking. "That's an interesting group of people. How did you guys end up being friends?"

"Yeah, we were kind of eclectic, weren't we? Well, like I said, Freddie and Jack played baseball together. Victoria and Jack had a lot of classes together so that's how they met and started to spend time together. Jack and I were cousins. Rebekah was a good friend of mine and I introduced her to Jack and the rest of the gang. Then she introduced us to Stella who was her childhood friend and next-door neighbor." Linton told them as he hugged himself even tighter.

It had a very "six degrees of separation" feel except on a much smaller scale. Nick still didn't quite understand how people from the opposite ends of the high school social spectrum ended up becoming good friends. This thought was further confirmed by Linton's next words.

"At first, I don't think that Freddie and Victoria were too keen on hanging out with Rebekah, Stella, and me, but Jack really got along with Rebekah so the other two stuck around. Gradually, we all became good friends. We did almost everything together." Linton began to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet in a nervous fashion.

Reading between the lines, Nick gathered that Jack, Big Man on Campus that he was, was the leader of the group and Freddie and Victoria would rather hang out with Jack and his less socially-acceptable friends than part company with him. Nick wondered if the perceived comradery of the group was genuine or just an act on the part of some of its members.

"Are they here tonight?" he asked.

"Yeah, they are. It's weird. This is the first time that all six of us have been in the same room since graduation and Jack ends up dead." The man laughed nervously and wiped a hand across his brow.

Nick refrained from commenting on this remark, but filed it away in the back of his mind. It might mean something or it might mean nothing. It was worth looking into though.

Instead, he asked. "Did Jack have any enemies? Any old grudges that we should know about?"

Linton shook his head. "No way. Like I said, everybody loved Jack. I don't know anyone who would want him dead."

"Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Elwell. If we think of any more questions, can we get in touch with you?" Nick asked politely.

"Yeah sure. Anything to help find the person who killed Jack. I still live here so I'm easy to find. I'm a blackjack dealer over at the Tropicana." Linton told them with a nod.

Warrick suppressed a grin. It was hard to imagine a nervous, little man like Linton Elwell being a dealer in a casino. Maybe he should stop by the Tropicana and play a few hands with him sometime.

After Linton had walked back into the gym, Nick turned to Warrick and asked, "So, what do you think?"

"That's certainly an interesting group of friends. If they're the ones who knew the victim the best, I think they're the best place to start. One of them might have had a good reason to kill the victim or at least know someone else who did." Warrick said.  
"That's what I'm thinking. We also need to get a list of the people who attended the reunion tonight." Nick said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Warrick hesitated for a moment and then shook his head. "I don't know, man. Something doesn't seem right with that guy. He's awfully agitated. I usually associate that kind of behavior with a guilty conscience."

"Well, he could just be prone to that kind of behavior. There are a lot of nervous types out there. It doesn't mean that he's hiding something. " Nick said with an air of uncertainty.

Warrick considered this possibility. "Doesn't mean that he's not either."

A silence fell between them as each man considered his own thoughts.

Finally, Warrick scratched his head. "Well, if we go back to your theory about the killer, I'd say he's the kind of guy who'd shoot someone in the back. Linton Elwell is definitely not the paragon of manly virtue. I'm thinking we keep to the old rule for now."

"First witness, first suspect." Nick sighed as he let his hands fall to his side. "Let's get that list of attendees."

As they entered the gym, the red-head who had been talking to Linton Elwell earlier approached them with a graceful stride.

"Hi. Linny told me that you're the ones investigating Jack's death and he said that he mentioned my name to you. I wanted to give you my contact information because I don't live here in Vegas anymore. I am staying with my parents for a few days though. I don't know if I can be of help to you or not, but I thought I'd make myself available." She handed Nick a scrap of paper and he saw that her penmanship was possessed as much grace as she did.

Looking up, he asked, "You're Rebekah Prescott?"

She nodded with a smile. Nick remembered that Linton had referred to her as the school "do-gooder" and took note of her appearance. She was wearing a modest yet extremely flattering green dress with her dark, red hair cascading down her back in waves. Although she would not be considered beautiful by normal standards, she had a very striking face which was only made more radiant by the tears she had undoubtedly been shedding.  
"Thank you for this. I feel certain that we're going to want to talk to you soon." Nick told her.

He watched her wipe a stray tear from her cheek and his heart was moved by her apparent grief. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Rebekah glanced away and said, "Thank you. Jack was a dear friend."

She turned to leave, but Nick held out a hand.

"Sorry to bother you, but do you know who we can talk to about getting a list of reunion attendees?" he asked.

Rebekah glanced around until she spotted Tammy standing next to the table she had been manning earlier that night. "Yes, you're going to want to talk to that blonde woman over there. Her name is Tammy Green."

Nick smiled in thanks.

They walked over to Tammy, who was talking animatedly with a group of women who were hanging on her every word.

"Excuse me, Tammy. You were the one checking people in, correct?" Warrick asked, walking up to her.  
Without bothering to hide it, Tammy gave Warrick an appraising look. She clearly liked what she saw because she slid up next to him and placed a delicate hand on his arm. "Yes, sir, I was in charge of checking people in. Is there anything that I can do for you?"

"I was wondering if I could get a list of the people who attended the reunion tonight." Warrick told her as Tammy brushed up even closer against him. He fought the urge to pull away, figuring that it might be best to play nice so he could get what he wanted from her. After all, you catch more flies with honey.

"Of course! I'd be happy to give it to you!" She moved forward and grabbed the list off the table

Handing it to Warrick, she said, "This is the list of everyone who attended. It also includes personal information. For example, there's my name and that's my phone number. If there's anything, and I do mean anything, else that you need, please feel free to give me a call."

Behind him, Warrick heard Nick give a cough that was supposed to mask the chuckle he had let slip out. Tammy didn't seem to notice. She gave Warrick an enthusiastic smile, which he half-heartedly returned, and a wink, which he did not return. Warrick turned to Nick, who was smiling as well and signaled with a jerk of his head that it was time to go.

As they left the gym, Nick said mischievously, "I bet she'd like to hear your mime story."

"Shut up." Warrick growled.

* * *

Back at the lab, Warrick was dusting the shell casing for prints while Nick was looking over the list of attendees that Tammy had given them.

"The other three names, Victoria Winston, Freddie McFarlane, and Stella Barnes, are on this list, bro. They did check in with Tammy tonight. Linton was right." He thumped the list with his fingers.

"They all still live in Vegas so they should be easy to get in touch with tomorrow. You get any prints off those casings?" Nick asked.

"I got jack squat. Just a bunch of smudges. Nothing workable." Warrick said, frustrated. "The only thing that I know is that these casings belong to a nine millimeter. Once we get those bullets pulled out of the vic, we can verify that they are the same caliber as the casings we found in the cafeteria."

Nick's beeper went off and he grabbed it, checking the number. "Speaking of our vic, it's time for our autopsy."

About twenty minutes later, Nick and Warrick made their way to the morgue where they found Doc Robbins scribbling a final note on his clipboard.

"Hey Doc. What'cha got for us?" Warrick asked as he moved towards the slab that Jack was laying on.

"Well, nothing too surprising. Your victim was shot in the back twice. The second bullet wasn't needed as the first one went clean through his spinal chord before lodging in his heart. That's the one that killed him. The second bullet punctured a lung." the coroner informed them.

He grabbed a jar off of the table next two him and handed it to Warrick. "After some digging around, I recovered your bullets."

"Great. I'll get these to Bobby and see if they're nine millimeters." Warrick said, examining the contents of the jar.

"As for any other physical evidence, I didn't find any. He's in excellent shape except for the fact that he's dead. He has no wounds - defensive or offensive. I detected no signs of struggle. No skin under the nails. Nothing. He probably had no idea that he was about to die." Doc Robbins said with a shake of his head.

"Thank you, Doc." Nick said and he and Warrick left the morgue.

Once in the hallway, Warrick leaned his tall frame against the wall. "Okay, let's walk through our next course of action."

Nick leaned his shoulder against the wall and considered his partner. "We send the bullets to Bobby like you said. I say tomorrow we interview the rest of Jack Moyer's friends and see what they can tell us."

He glanced at his watch. "We still got a couple of hours left before the end of the shift. I say we do a bit of digging into the backgrounds of Freddie McFarlane, Victoria Winston, Stella Barnes, and Rebekah Prescott and see what we can uncover before we talk to them."

Warrick nodded in agreement. "Sounds good. Let's do it."

As the two men strolled casually down the hallway, Nick asked, "So did you go to your high school reunion?"

Warrick gave a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Nah. I thought about it. Part of me wanted to go back and show all those punks who gave me a hard time how much I've changed, but I realized that I didn't feel the need to prove anything to them, so I didn't waste my time. You?"

Nick shook his head. "I wasn't too keen on the idea of spending hours defending my career choice and talking about my father's inevitable election to the state supreme court."

"Yeah, that'd get old." Warrick was familiar with his friend's frustrations with his high profile family. While he knew that Nick deeply loved his family, he was aware of how hard Nick had worked hard to establish a name for himself outside of his family. If Nick went back to his reunion, he'd just feel overshadowed once again by his family name.

"I wonder why Jack went to his reunion. I get the feeling that he wasn't there to reminiscence since he was off meeting with someone. He was probably taking care of unfinished business left over from his school days. It obviously didn't go well." Nick mused.

Warrick sighed. "I guess it proves the old saying true. You can't go back."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Their first interview was with Stella Barnes. She arrived a few minutes late, dressed in black pants and a flashy pink blouse that shimmered in the light whenever she moved. Her black hair hung freely around her shoulders. She had traffic-stopping good looks and she knew exactly how to use them. Every eye in the room was on her when she waltzed into it. There was an air of sorrow about her but she didn't seem particularly sad.

As she sat down in the chair across from Nick and Warrick, she gave them a weary smile. "So, how can I help?"

"We'd like to know a little bit about your relationship with Jack Moyer." Nick told her as he leaned forward a bit, his arms resting on the table between them.

Stella's smile faded a bit. "Ah, yes! Poor Jack. He was such a sweetheart and a good friend. I'm going to miss him so much! You can't imagine how difficult all of this is for me, but I shall try to muddle through."

She sighed and began to speak again. "I met Jack through my dear friend, Rebekah. She and I were next-door neighbors and playmates as children. We did almost everything together. We were quite the pair. Rebekah was so level-headed and she kept me grounded as I was so flighty when I was younger. Anyway, Rebekah met Jack during our freshman year and then she introduced me to Jack and the rest, as they say, is history!"

Stella smiled at Nick. She seemed to get lost in thought while staring his face.

In an attempt to get Stella to re-focus her thoughts, Warrick spoke up, "We understand that Jack was meeting someone last night. Was that you?"

Stella shook her head. "No, I didn't even get a chance to speak to him last night. It's a pity. There's so much I wanted to say to him."

"Was there anyone who might have had a reason to kill Jack?" Nick asked.

"Oh no! Everybody loved Jack!" Stella cried.

"Somebody wanted him dead." Nick pointed out the obvious.

"I can't imagine who! We were all so close! We knew each other's business! Jack got along with everyone!" Stella said. There was a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

Warrick pointed this out. "You don't seem so sure about that."

Stella shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Well, I'm not one to spread gossip, but since this is a murder investigation, I guess it's okay. Something happened between Rebekah and Jack. About a month before graduation, Rebekah stopped hanging out with us. I mean, she stopped hanging out with Jack."

Finally they seemed to be getting somewhere. Nick pressed forward. "Why do you think that is?"

"I don't know. There was always this tension between them - sexual tension, I mean. Nothing ever happened between them though. Rebekah had very high morals. Not like me." she laughed lightly.

She seemed to think better of what she had said and rushed on. "Don't get me wrong. Rebekah wasn't a tease or anything like that. She had a great deal of respect for Jack and would never have intentionally hurt him. She just didn't want to let herself get involved with someone who didn't have the same beliefs she did."

"By beliefs, do you mean religious faith?" Warrick asked her.

"Rebekah was very involved in her church. She had a very strong faith, one which Jack did not share. Not that she didn't try to convert him. She tried to convert the whole lot of us. She managed to get us to some church events, but that was about it. She wasn't one of those pushy fanatics though. Rebekah's a wonderful person." Stella informed him.

Nick nodded in understanding. "So you don't know why they quarreled."

Stella shook her head. "No idea. Rebekah wouldn't talk about it. Believe me, I tried to get her to talk about it, but that girl stubbornly refused to tell me. I wanted to know so bad."

She paused as if she was considering something. "It's funny. When Rebekah left the group, we kinda fell apart. We managed to stay together until graduation, but that was it. After that, we didn't spend anymore time together. I guess Jack and Rebekah were the glue that held our odd, little family together."

A silence fell between the three of them. Nick didn't think they were going to get much more out of Stella so he thought he'd wrap up their conversation by verifying some of Stella's personal information.

"You own a theater company, correct?" Nick asked, checking the paper in front of him.

"Yes, it's called 'Flight of Fancy'. It's located just off the Strip. We sell out almost every weekend, performing everything from Shakespeare to Arthur Miller. It's quite a lucrative undertaking. I don't actually run the theater because I have no head for business, but I do some acting and directing."

Stella fixed Nick with a thoughtful eye and said, "Your eyes say so much about you. I feel as if I'm glimpsing into your soul. I can sense that you, like me, are deeply in touch with your emotions. And you have such lovely, chiseled features. Have you ever considered a career in the theater? I could have women lining up around the block to catch a glimpse of you on stage. Can you act?"

She paused as if she intended to allow Nick to respond but rushed ahead before he had the chance to. "Honestly, with looks like yours it doesn't matter if you can act or not."

Nick was completely taken aback and had appeared to lose the capacity to form words, so Warrick decided to play hero and rescue his buddy from the situation. "Well, thank you for coming down Ms. Barnes. If we have any more questions, can we contact you?"

"Of course!" Stella said with a smile and she got up, swivelling her hips as she left the room.

The two CSIs sat in silence for a moment. Nick let his head sink to the table in embarrassment and Warrick let out a small laugh.

"Well it's nice to know that if you don't make it as a CSI, you can have a prosperous future in the theater." he teased.

* * *

The interview with Freddie McFarlane went nothing like the Stella Barnes interview. Freddie was an imposing figure, stood a good two inches over Warrick. He had retained his muscular, athletic form throughout the years. He had a surly attitude and it was apparent by his body language that he wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Let's just cut the crap, okay? I didn't kill Jack and I don't know who did. I didn't even talk to him last night." Freddie told them.

"So you didn't see or hear anything? You don't know anything?" Warrick asked.

"Nope." Freddie said, wrapping his large hands behind his head.

"You don't know anyone who would want to hurt Jack?" Nick asked. He tried to push away his feelings of mounting dislike for Freddie so as to stay objective.

"I already told you that I didn't." Freddie snapped. "Look, you're wasting your time with me. Jack and I were friends. We were equals. I'm not your guy."

"What do you mean by that?" Nick asked.

"We were both popular, had a high-status in school. We had the respect of every one of our classmates. You want a suspect? Look to someone who doesn't fit that role." Freddie said.

"Like who?" Warrick asked in curiosity.

"Like Linton Elwell." Freddie supplied rapidly.

"Linton Elwell? You think he killed his cousin? I thought he was one of your friends." Nick asked, amazed that Freddie had come up with an answer so quickly.

"We were never friends. I put up with him for Jack's sake. Jack was always looking out for Linton because he felt sorry for him. The guy was a total loser but nobody messed with him because of Jack. Linton idolized Jack, wanted to be just like him. But he was never going to be like Jack and deep down, he knew it." Freddie slammed a fist down on the table in frustration.

"You really think he's capable of murder?" Nick asked, unable to completely hide his disbelief.

"I don't know. How long would you be able to live in someone's shadow?" Freddie asked.

Freddie looked down at his fist and watched as he opened it and laid his palm down on the table. He raised his head to look Nick in the face. "What won't a man do if he's properly motivated?"

There was something in his tone that struck Nick like a ton of bricks. He considered the man before him and then leaned forward, fixing Freddie with a piercing gaze. "What would it take to motivate you to kill Jack Moyer?"

Freddie did not back down under Nick's gaze. "Tell me, could you ever end the life of your friend here in cold blood?"

Nick had never been asked a question like that. For a moment, he forgot that Warrick was in the room with him. His eyes were locked on Freddie's intense face. "No. Never."

Freddie nodded. "And why not? Not just because he's your friend. He's your partner. That's the way it was between me and Jack. Only it was stronger than that. He was like a brother to me. You don't betray a bond like that. Period."

Warrick broke in on this unsettling conversation. "Jack was your best friend. You guys must have talked a lot. Did he tell you anything about the falling out he had with Rebekah Prescott?"

"No. We're guys. We don't talk about stuff like that. Frankly, part of me wasn't sorry that she was gone. She was all into God and all that. My idea of a good time and her idea of a good time were not the same at all. When she was gone, we got to have more of my kind of fun." Freddie said.

"What kind of fun you talking about?" Warrick asked although he was pretty sure he already knew.

"Partying. Drinking. You know, stupid high school kid stuff." Freddie said, slumping against the back of his chair.

"We got them impression that there was something romantic between Jack and Rebekah. You know anything about that?" Warrick asked.

"Jack could have had any girl in school, but he only casually dated a few of them. He seemed fascinated by Rebekah and I never understood that. It's not like she was all that hot or that she'd sleep with him or something like that. I mean, there were some things that I liked about her alot. She never pretended to be something that she wasn't and she was really nice - not fake nice, but genuine nice. She helped me with a school project once. I never wanted to date her though. She just wasn't my type, you know?" he said, folding his muscular arms in front of his chest.

Changing topics, Warrick asked, "You got a full-ride scholarship to play baseball at UNLV, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but I got in an accident my sophomore year and messed up my knee and my shoulder. Couldn't play anymore so they took my scholarship away." Freddie told them bitterly.

"That accident caused the death of two people, including your buddy who was driving under the influence. You're lucky to be alive." Warrick pointed out.

"I guess you could say that." Freddie said sarcastically. "Working one of the craps tables at the Tropicana is just as good as playing 3rd base in the Majors. Yeah, life really is beautiful."

* * *

Victoria Winston arrived ten minutes ahead of her scheduled interview, dressed smartly in a silk blouse with a navy jack and matching skirt. Her blonde hair was drawn up in a rather tight bun. Being instructed to wait, she seated herself in the lobby. She crossed her legs, allowing the casual viewer to get a better look at their slender shape, and contented herself with reading an issue of _Psychology Today_ that she had brought with her.

A few minutes later, she was escorted to the interrogation room where she greeted Nick and Warrick with a confident handshake.

"Thank you for coming to speak with us, Miss Winston." Nick said by way of greeting.

"I prefer Dr. Winston." she told him matter-of-factly.

"Yes, of course. I apologize." Nick said. He masked his annoyance at the belittling way in which she had corrected him. It had made him feel like a school kid.

"No harm done. Now, how can I be of service gentlemen?" she asked. The smile on her face was meant to convey a sense of warmth, but it just made Nick feel colder. He could not shake the feeling that Victoria Winston was as hard as nails.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions about Jack Moyer. We understand that you were good friends with him." Warrick said.

"Yes, Jack and I were close." Victoria nodded in assent. "And I was close with Freddie McFarlane, whom you've already spoken too."

"What about Linton Elwell, Stella Barnes, and Rebekah Prescott? Were you close with them? We understand that you spent a lot of time with them." Warrick said. He wondered if Victoria was going to respond in a similar vein as Freddie. He was willing to bet big money that she would.

"There's a difference between spending time with someone and being close to them. Stella, Linton, and Rebekah weren't really on the same level as me, but we let them hang with us." She told them.

"So I take it that you weren't too fond of them." Nick replied. He was not surprised by this. He didn't know if Victoria was particularly fond of anyone other than herself.

"Well, Stella and Linton were okay in some ways, but Rebekah was a cruel-hearted girl." Victoria said with a small scowl.

Nick sat back a bit in his seat and shot Warrick a look. This was different. They hadn't heard anything bad about Rebekah from anyone else. Did Victoria know something the others didn't?

"What do you mean by that?" Nick asked curiously.

"She knew that Jack cared for her. She wouldn't date him and yet flirted with him shamelessly. She wreaked havoc on his poor heart in the way that only a perceived 'good girl' could, using her so-called faith as an excuse to refuse him." Victoria's tone grew with increasing ferocity as she spoke about Rebekah.

Nick was struck by how Victoria's entire demeanor had changed so quickly by the mere mention of Rebekah Prescott. She had lost her cool composure and adopted an attitude of angry hostility. It struck him as odd and he could tell by a slight change in Warrick's posture that his partner was feeling the same way.

Warrick had been a bit taken aback by her remarks, but his face mask-like when he said, "We got the impression that Rebekah was completely honest with Jack about everything, totally above board with him, and that she would never have hurt him like that because she cared about him."

Victoria scoffed at Warrick's words. "Oh please! Anyone who rold you that Rebekah Prescott was some kind of saint is a fool. She knew exactly what she was doing to Jack and enjoyed every minute of it."

Nick leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. "We know that Jack and Rebekah had some falling out towards the end of your senior year. Do you know what that was all about?"

Victoria shook her head. "Believe me, I asked but Jack wouldn't tell me. My guess is that he finally had enough of her and told her off about it. She was too ashamed or too angry to show her face afterwards. We were better off without her though."

Deciding that maybe it was time to change the topic, Nick asked, "Do you know anyone who would want to kill Jack? Any former classmates holding grudges? That sort of thing?"

"No. Everybody liked Jack. He was a great guy. A good friend." Her voice had lost its hostility and had become twinged with sadness.

"Did you have much contact with Jack after high school?" Nick asked. He wanted to see if her version matched what he had heard so far.

"No. Not really. We all kind of went our own ways after graduation. That's why I was looking forward to this reunion. I found out that everybody was going to be there and I wanted to go and reminisce." She told them, her face growing a touch warmer.

"It's my understanding that you studied psychology at Harvard, is that correct?" Warrick asked.

"Yes. I received both my undergraduate and graduate degrees from Harvard. My parents spared no expense for my education and I put their money to good use. I turned my doctoral thesis into a best-selling book." Victoria said with a smile.

"Really? What was it about?" Nick asked.

"It's entitled, 'You Are Who You Were.' In my book, I assert that we are still the same people we were in high school. The jocks are still reveling in their glory days; the popular kids are still the center of attention; the wannabes are still trying to achieve that which they never will; and the nerds are still getting picked on by those cooler than them. High School is the place where most people are first labeled by their peer group and I believe that label sticks. It's with us for the rest of our lives and defines who we are." Victoria tapped her perfectly-manicured fingernails on the table as she said this.

"That's an interesting premise." Nick told her honestly. "Going back to your reunion and seeing your classmates probably provided you with a lot of interesting observations. What does your theory tell you about yourself in relation to your classmates?"

A somewhat arrogant smile crossed Victoria's face and it matched her tone as she replied, "It told me that I'm still the most intelligent person in that room and that I have the most to show for myself. No one's garnered as much fame as I have. I'm in the process of creating my own talk show based on the success of my book."

"How nice for you." Warrick said unenthusiastically.

Nick fought the urge to laugh at his partner's comment, but managed to hold it back. It was obvious that Warrick thought as little of Victoria as he did. Deciding to wrap things up, he said, "Dr. Winston, thank you for taking the time to talk with us. If we have any more questions, may we contact you?"

"Of course." she answered.

Victoria got up to leave and Nick escorted her out of the room. At the end of the hallway, Nick saw Rebekah Prescott standing by the receptionist's counter. She turned her head and saw Victoria heading her way. Rebekah gave Victoria a small smile and Victoria nodded her head in acknowledgment. Nick thought he felt the temperature of the room drop ten degrees as Victoria passed Rebekah by without a word.

Rebekah approached Nick and said, "Mr. Stokes, I know my interview is supposed to take place a bit later, but I have to take my mother to the doctor and I was hoping that we could do it now."

"Sure. We've just finished with Dr. Winston so we have time." Nick told her with a smile. He ushered her in the direction of the interrogation room.

"So I'm assuming that you want to know about my relationship with Jack and everybody else." Rebekah said as she seated herself in the chair and folded her hands on the table.

Nick nodded. "Yes ma'am." He noticed that she was dressed very comfortably in jeans and a polo shirt, which gave her a very wholesome look. She looked like a nice, normal person - the kind of person who shouldn't be sitting across from him in an interrogation room.

"Jack and I got to be good friends during our freshman year. Linton introduced us." she told them.

"How would you describe your relationship with the other members of your group?" Warrick asked.

"Well, I was especially close to Stella as we grew up together. Linton was such a sweetheart so he was a joy to spend time with." Rebekah allowed a smile to play across her lips and she looked as if she were remembering the good times they had shared.

"What about Freddie McFarlane and Victoria Winston?" Warrick was curious as to what her response would be. Stella and Linton seemed to think that they were all good friends while Freddie and Victoria had made it sound like they only tolerated the others in order to hang out with Jack. Rebekah, Warrick sensed, appeared to be a sharp girl and most likely would have picked up on their true feelings.

"Freddie was okay at times. For the most part, Jack had a good influence on him, but there were times when he could be difficult. He was good to Jack though and I appreciated that." She paused for a moment and appeared to be choosing her next words very carefully.

"I'll be honest with you. Victoria and I were never close. I tried at the beginning to be her friend, but it became apparent that she was not interested in my friendship. For my part, I tried to behave kindly to her regardless of how she treated me. It was difficult at times, given that we hung out together, but I viewed it as a test of my ability to suffer through persecution." The faintest trace of an amused smile crossed her lips as she said these last words.

Nick cleared his throat and shifted in his seat a bit. "Miss Prescott, we got the impression that there was something between you and Jack - something romantic. Can you tell us about that?"

Rebekah blushed a bit. "Well, like I said, Jack and I got along very well. I respected him quite a bit for a variety of reasons and he was very handsome, but we never dated. I wasn't going to date someone who didn't share the same beliefs as me. My Christian beliefs are the cornerstone to the way I live my life and if I can't share those with a potential love, then I can't be with that person. It would be too hard."

Nick nodded in understanding. "And did Jack know this?"

"Yes." she stated simply.

"According to your friends, you and Jack had a falling out before graduation. Do you mind telling us what that was about?" Nick asked.

Rebekah fidgeted a bit in her seat and tucked a loose strand of her red hair behind her ear. "That was a long time ago and I don't believe it's relevant to your investigation."

Nick studied Rebekah carefully. Obviously, she didn't want to talk about what had happened between her and Jack but that didn't make her guilty of anything. They seemed to have made up though because Rebekah had referred to Jack as a dear friend and Nick didn't believe that she was lying about that.

Having no good reason to force the issue at this time, Nick decided to ask Rebekah a question that he had not asked anyone else up to this point. "Would anyone from your group of high school friends be capable of killing Jack?"

Rebekah fixed him with a look, but instead of dismissing the question with a simple no, she paid Nick the courtesy of actually defending her answer.

"No, I don't think so. Linton would never hurt anyone, especially Jack. He does not have that capacity for violence in him. Stella, though I love her dearly, is flighty when it comes to anything other than acting. I don't see how she'd be capable of staying focused long enough to plan and pull off a pre-meditated murder of one of her closest friends. Freddie was Jack's best friend. They had an unmistakable bond. I know his life hasn't been the easiest, but I cannot see how that would drive him to kill Jack. And while Victoria and I may not have been the best of friends, I always perceived her affection for Jack to be genuine and I have no reason to suspect her of his murder."

She sighed and looked away. "I wish that I could help you. I do. I just don't know of any reason why someone would want to kill Jack. I know how popular people can be perceived as being liked by everyone when, in fact, they are hated by most everyone, but that just wasn't true of Jack. He was never deliberately mean to anyone and always treated people with respect no matter who they were. I have no idea who would do this to him or why."

Sensing that they weren't going to get much more out of Rebekah, Warrick said, "You live in Arizona where you teach the fifth grade, right?"

"Yes, my grandparents lived there and I moved there right after high school in order go to college there. I haven't been back to Vegas much. My parents usually to visit me in Arizona." she informed them.

"So I guess you haven't had much contact with your friends after graduation." Warrick reasoned.

"I spoke a few times with Stella on the phone right after I left, but that's it." Rebekah answered.

"Well, we want to thank you for coming down to talk to us." Nick said as they stood up.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't be of more help. Please let me know if you have any more questions for me." she said with a smile and walked out of the room.

Nick and Warrick stood in the doorway and watched her leave.

"It's interesting. The friendship between Jack and Rebekah fell apart and then, one month later, the entire group fell apart. I can't help but think all of that has some relevance to our investigation somehow." Nick confessed to Warrick.

"Think so? I don't know, man. It might be nothing - some stupid high school argument or something." Warrick said dismissively.

"My gut's telling me there's something there." Nick shook his head in frustration. "They did everything together for four years and then the group completely dissolves. Why? There has to be a reason. And I don't think it's a coincidence that they all happen to show up for the reunion and one of them ends up dead."

"Don't jump the gun, Nick. People drift apart after high school. How many of your close friends from high school do you keep in touch with?" Warrick asked.

Nick knew that his partner had a point, but he could shake the feeling that the reunion of this group of former friends had lead to the death of Jack Moyer.

**Author's Note: Thanks to all of you who left feedback. I really appreciate it.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

A while later, Nick and Warrick sat in the break room. They were trying to make sense of all the information, or lack thereof, that they had gathered from their interviews.

Warrick sat at the table, reclining a bit in his chair. "Okay, so we've established that the group fell apart after high school, which may or may not have a relevance to our case, and the dissolution of the group may or may not have a connection with the Jack and Rebekah fall out."

Warrick rubbed his forehead. He could sense that a headache was about to hit him, a thought which only increased his frustration. The lack of a substantial lead in their case was annoying him. Surely there had to be something that they were missing.

He continued to massage his forehead as Catherine made her way into the break room. She headed over to the fridge and began to dig around in it, searching for the sandwich she had brought with her when she came on shift.

Nick sat on the couch, hugging one of its cushions. "Well, one thing we know is that the group wasn't as close as it appeared to be. There seemed to be two distinctive sides and Jack was the one that bridged the gap between them, which I'm guessing he did because he was in love with Rebekah Prescott."

"Okay, I'll buy that. It seemed like it was Freddie versus Linton and Victoria versus Rebekah, while no one appeared to have any problem with Stella. It makes sense to me why Freddie didn't like Linton. Freddie was a super-jock and Linton was a wimpy nerd. What I don't get is all the animosity Victoria had, and apparently still has, for Rebekah. She painted Rebekah as a black-hearted villain bent on the emotional destruction of Jack Moyer. That doesn't seem to jive with what the others said about her. It even contradicts Freddie's account. So which one's accurate?" Warrick threw up a hand in confusion.

Behind him, Catherine let out a derisive snort.

"You got something to say, Cath?" Warrick asked, turning in his seat to fix the red-head with a stare.

"Let me see if I get this straight. You've got this man, Jack, who's in love with Rebekah and Victoria hates her for no apparent reason?" Catherine asked, resting a slender hand on her hip.

"Yeah." Warrick confirmed.

"My dear boys, your girl Victoria is most likely suffering from what I like to call the Jealous Woman Syndrome. She's in love with Jack and can't stand it that he's picked Rebekah over her, but instead of hating the man who rejected her, she hates the object of his affection." Catherine said with a smile.

Warrick and Nick looked at each other, both realizing instantly that Catherine's analysis of the situation was correct.

"You're amazing, Cath. You waltz in here, listen to a minute's worth of our conversation, and figure it out. How do you that?" Nick asked in amazement.

She walked over to him and patted his cheek. "I'm a woman, Nicky. Nobody diagnoses Jealous Woman Syndrome better than one who has suffered it."

Throwing them a sassy smile from over her shoulder, Catherine walked out of the room with her sandwich in hand.

"Well that makes sense. I'm now inclined to believe that Victoria's assessment of the Jack and Rebekah relationship was slightly skewed." Nick gave a small laugh which turned into a sigh. He felt like he was beating his head against a brick wall. They didn't appear to be making any headway in this case.

Warrick rested his elbows on the table, considering whether or not to bring up the thought that had occurred to him a while ago. Finally, he spoke up. "Okay, so it seems that Jack was in love with Rebekah, but Rebekah wouldn't date him even though I think she was in love with him too. That had to be pretty frustrating for our boy - to be in love with a girl who felt the same way and yet wouldn't act on her feelings. What if Jack tried to force the issue with Rebekah?"

Warrick looked at Nick expectantly, wondering what his partner would have to say about this.

"What? You think he raped her?" Nick asked, leaning forward a bit. The thought had crossed his mind as well, but he wanted to let Warrick finish his thoughts before expressing his own.

"Yeah, maybe. Depends on how frustrated he was, I guess. Maybe it never got that far though. If he was trying to pressure her to have sex, that'd be enough to drive a good, church-going girl like Rebekah away." Warrick mused.

"I will admit that a similar idea crossed my mind, but look at the way she talked about Jack. She said he was a dear friend. If he had tried to rape her or force her to have sex, would she refer to him like that? She made it sound like everything was fine between them." Nick said, tossing the pillow aside.

"Maybe she lied. Maybe she finally decided to get her revenge on him. Maybe that's why she came back to the reunion." Warrick said.

Nick looked at his partner in disbelief. "You really think a girl like that is capable of murder?"

"Anyone's capable of anything. This job taught me that." Warrick answered knowingly.

"No way." Nick shook his head firmly. "I don't buy it. She's not our killer."

"I'm not saying she is. I'm just saying that she could be and we shouldn't dismiss her because she goes to church." Warrick sighed.

A frustrated silence fell between them. Typically, the men followed a similar train of thought when it came to dealing with potential suspects. This time though, they seemed to be able to agree on hardly anything when it came to their suspects.

"Okay, say Jack raped Rebekah or tried to or was forcing himself on her or something like that. Maybe someone else knew about it and maybe that person is the one who killed Jack." Nick suggested.

"That person would have to be someone who cared enough about Rebekah to avenge her like that. I think we can rule out Freddie McFarlane and Victoria Winston, so we're left with Linton Elwell and Stella Barnes." Warrick seemed to be liking Nick's thought.

"I agree and I know who I want to talk to first." Nick said with a knowing look.

Warrick nodded in agreement. "Linton Elwell. I already said that I thought he fit your original profile of the shooter. Maybe he decided to play the avenging hero or maybe Freddie was right about Linton. Maybe he got tired of living in his shadow. Either way, it's worth checking out."

* * *

Nick stopped in to use the restroom before heading to Linton's home. As he washed his hands, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Unbidden, Victoria Winston's words rang in his head.

"_The jocks are still reveling in their glory days; the popular kids are still the center of attention; the wannabes are still trying to achieve that which they never will; and the nerds are still getting picked on by those cooler than them. High School is the place where most people are first labeled by their peer group and I believe that label sticks. It's with us for the rest of our lives and defines who we are."_

Suddenly, he saw his fifteen year-old self reflected back at him in the mirror with all of his insecurities exposed. Was he still the same scrawny boy scrambling to prove himself as more than just a name?

In high school, he had been dependable because that's what he was supposed to be. The Stokes' were dependable. They were hard workers, loyal, goal-oriented, but always dependable. That was what was expected of him, so that's what he was. He thought it would please his parents, teachers, and friends if that's the way he was - someone you could always count on.

But at the same time, there had been this small part of him that rebelled against that idea. Not the concept of always being dependable, but the idea that he should be dependable because he was a Stokes. It's not that he wanted to let people down. On the contrary, he had enjoyed being someone that others could count on, but he had felt that he should be dependable because it was his conscious decision to be so and not because of some familial obligation.

Even as a young teenager, he had longed to prove himself as more than just the youngest Stokes child. He had gone to the same school as his brother and sisters, so the teachers and the administration already knew his family and knew what to expect from him. There was no way for him to stand out as an individual because everything had already been done by his siblings.

Throughout his high school career, what he had wanted more than anything was to be noticed for who he was, not who his family was, and it had never happened. He was constantly being compared to his older siblings and was constantly encouraged to be a credit to his name.

He could still hear his father's words ringing in his ears.

"_You're a Stokes, Nicholas. It's a privilege to bear that name, but it means certain things are required of you. You must uphold the family name and everything it stands for. Make the family proud, son."_

Nick had tried to rebel against that concept somewhat when he left for college. It wasn't that he didn't want to honor his family name or make his parents proud. He just needed to prove to himself, and everyone else, that the "Nicholas" part of his name was just as important as the "Stokes" part.

He tried to define himself as an individual by joining a fraternity - a thing he now found ironic as he was really just establishing his identity by latching on to a different sort of family rather than creating his own identity as an individual. Nick had tried to assimilate into the culture in which he had immersed himself, but that kind of lifestyle hadn't really appealed to him. It wasn't who he really was. Sure, he had partied and done some crazy things, but hadn't really enjoyed it. He'd given up that lifestyle the moment he graduated and never sought to reclaim it. Instead, he switched back to good 'ole dependable Nick, embracing the qualities he was raised to have and possessing an even fiercer determination to prove himself.

Here in Vegas, Nick still felt the same way. He wanted to be known and approved of by his own merit as an individual, as Nick, not as Judge Stokes' son. Yet how did he try to prove himself? By being a hard worker, doing the best he could in every situation, by being steady, dependable - all qualities that the Stokes family were known for. Though he had tried so hard to distinguish himself from his family, he still fell back upon the qualities that his family was known for. He couldn't deny his heritage and he knew that, deep down, he didn't want to.

Since high school, he had always been proving himself to someone. His parents, his teachers, his friends, his fraternity brothers, his coworkers, and Grissom. His need for approval was something that annoyed him to no end. Nick knew that it shouldn't matter what others thought of him as long as he had confidence in himself, but he had always craved approval. And now, after hearing Victoria's words, he wondered if he always would. It was an incredibly depressing thought.

The young boy on the other side of the mirror blinked at him. As Nick moved his hands to smooth the wrinkles out of his shirt, the boy did the same thing. The boy seemed to give him a look that said "I am you and you are me. That's how it will always be."

Nick shuddered at the thought and willed the reflection of the scrawny boy to fade away until he was faced with his normal self. He pressed his lips into a thin line of determination and stormed out of the bathroom. There were more pressing issues at hand and he needed to focus.

* * *

Nick was silent during the drive to Linton's home. He had tried with little success to rid his thoughts of Victoria's words. He drummed his fingers on the armrest as he further contemplated the issue.

Sensing that Nick's head was somewhere else, Warrick asked, "You wanna let me know what's on your mind?"

Nick paused for a moment, a bit embarrassed that Warrick had caught him lost in thought. "You remember what Victoria Winston said about her book? That we're the same people we were in high school?"

"Don't tell me that you bought into that load of crap." Warrick huffed, gripping the steering wheel a bit harder than usual.

"You don't agree with her?" Nick asked, shooting a look at him.

Warrick pulled to a stop at a red light and turned to look at Nick. "No way. I'm light years from the dork I was in high school. I used to be this little kid who got picked on. I was awkward and unsure of myself. Look at me now. I'm coolness personified and I know how capable I am."

"Don't forget modest too." Nick said with a smile.

The light turned green and Warrick pressed the gas pedal. "Victoria Winston is an arrogant woman who thinks she has the corner market on understanding the human psyche. There is no way that her premise is correct."

Warrick stole a quick glance at Nick and took in his uncertain face. "You think there's some validity to it, don't you?"

Nick hunched his shoulders and looked out the window. His tone conveyed the frustration that he was feeling. "I don't know. Maybe. It's just got me thinking. I'd like to think that I'm not the same person I was in high school, that I've grown as a person, but I don't know. I mean, look at the people we've been interviewing today. They all seem to be the same people they were described as being in high school."

"Well, perhaps some people retain some of the same qualities but she was implying that everyone was the exact same person they were in high school and that's just plain ridiculous." Warrick shook his head.

When Nick did not respond, Warrick continued. "To say that you're the same person you were in high school implies that you cannot change. Frankly, that's not a very optimistic view of the world. Her premise implies that people can never overcome their insecurities or mend their flaws. Everyone is stagnant. If everyone's stagnant, then no one's growing. If a person's not growing, they are not truly alive. I know I'm alive and you are too."

Deep down, Nick knew that Warrick was probably right. He much preferred Warrick's more optimistic view on life, but he was still unsettled by his thoughts. He remained silent until they pulled up in front of Linton's place.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Warrick knocked smartly on Linton's front door. They could hear footsteps approaching and the door opened halfway to reveal Linton's apprehensive face.

"Oh, it's you." he said when he saw Nick and Warrick.

"Where you expecting someone else?" Warrick asked.

"Oh, no." Linton said, shifting his gaze to his feet. "Please come in."

He stepped away, allowing Warrick and Nick to enter his house.

"Mr. Elwell, we'd like to ask you a few more questions." Warrick asked, sitting down on the couch in the living room.

"Okay." he perched himself on the edge of a chair and ran a hand through his unkempt hair.

"We understand that your cousin looked out a lot for you in high school. Kept you from experiencing some unpleasantness." Warrick said, keeping his tone causal. He slung his arm over the armrest and kept his other hand on his knee in a relaxed manner. Nick had adopted a similar posture. As Linton seemed prone to rapid emotional upset, they were trying to keep him as calm as possible for as long as possible.

Linton shifted his eyes to his feet. "Did Freddie tell you that?"

"He said something along those lines." Nick replied.

Linton gave a weak laugh. "I guess that's probably true. I was never very confident in school and I wasn't big and strong like Jack or Freddie. People like me don't usually fare well in school, but I was lucky I guess."

He hung his head in embarrassment, but Warrick could see that his cheeks were burning with shame. A twinge of pity struck him. He had been Linton Elwell when he was in high school, except that he had no one there to defend him. He had experienced first-hand the shame of being made a mockery of by his peers. He had vowed that he would find a way to overcome it all and he had, but that was something Linton had never been able to accomplish.

"I know what that's like, never being able to stand up for yourself. Your cousin had to protect you. I can understand how his behavior could seem demeaning to you. He did it because he cared for you, but it might have been construed as an act of pity." Warrick said evenly.

Linton wrapped his arms around himself. "I don't understand. What do you mean? Are you implying what I think you're implying?"

Warrick didn't answer, but just continued to stare at Linton until the man's eyes grew wide in realization.

"No!" he said, shaking his head and rocking in his seat. "No! I didn't do it! I could never kill Jack! He was good to me! He was my cousin and I loved him! We were family!"

Taking over, Nick said, "Perhaps you were motivated by another reason. We know that Jack and Rebekah had feelings for each other. We suspect that the reason for their falling out was severe and most likely linked to something sexual."

At this, Linton began to chew on a fingernail. "I don't understand." he said.

"We think that Jack might have forced Rebekah to do something that she didn't want to do or at the very least, he made an attempt to do so." Nick said bluntly, leaving his eyes fixed on Linton's face.

"You think he raped her?" Linton was practically shrieking.

"She was your good friend. Maybe she told you what he did to her and maybe you decided to take matters into your own hands." Nick said.

Linton clamped his hands over his ears as tears began to leak from his eyes. "It's not true! I can't be hearing this!"

"Did Rebekah ask you to kill Jack for her?" Warrick asked.

Linton bolted from his chair with such a force that Warrick instinctively moved for his gun, but Linton was not intent on hurting anyone. He merely began to pace back and forth in front of his chair. "No! You're wrong! Jack would never hurt Rebekah! He loved her!"

"Sometimes people hurt those they love." Warrick said knowingly.

"No." Linton whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

Warrick decided to drop the next bombshell. "Do you own a gun, Mr. Elwell?"

"What? No! I've never even held one let alone fired one!" He turned to face Warrick, his eyes practically popping out of his skull.

He stopped his pacing and turned to face them. He attempted to adopt a more commanding presence, but failed miserably. Linton was trembling all over as he said, "I think it's time for you to leave. You come into my home and accuse me of doing a horrible thing. You accuse my cousin of doing a horrible thing and I will not allow that. Please - please leave now ."

Linton pointed a shaky finger towards the door. Nick and Warrick obliged by leaving as quickly as possible.

Once back inside the car, Nick looked at his partner. "You still think he did it?"

"Definitely." Warrick said as he turned the key in the ignition. "What? You disagree?"

Nick chewed his lip thoughtfully. "I don't know. Maybe, but something doesn't seem right. We're missing something." He rested his head against the headrest and closed his eyes as Warrick continued to drive.

Warrick stole a glance at Nick. He could sense his partner's frustration. It was radiating off him in waves. He could sympathize as he feeling the same way.

He was about to suggest grabbing a bite to eat when an idea occurred to him. "Hey. I know it's getting late, but let's pay Rebekah Prescott a visit and see how she likes our theory. Maybe that'll encourage her to fill in some missing pieces to our puzzle."

Nick opened his eyes and turned to smile at Warrick. "I like that idea."

* * *

Nick knocked on the Prescott door with a renewed sense of excitement. Perhaps he was feeling prematurely optimistic, but he felt that they were about to fill in a big piece of the puzzle. At least, he hoped so.

The door opened to reveal Rebekah Prescott. If she was surprised by their unannounced arrival, she did not let it show, but smiled graciously as she ushered them inside.

"Please come in, gentlemen. I'm assuming that you have some more questions for me."

"Yes we do." Nick replied, taking a seat on the floral couch.

He gazed into Rebekah's unassuming face and suddenly became embarrassed. The topic about to be broached was a very sensitive one and for some reason, he found himself at a loss as to how to proceed. He shot a look at Warrick, who understood that he was supposed to take over.

"Miss Prescott, we have reason to believe that the reason for the fallout between you and Jack was related to something sexual. We think he either forced you or tried to force you to do something that you didn't want to and for that reason, you parted ways. We also think that Linton found out about this and decided to exact revenge either through his own decision or through your encouragement." Warrick did not waver once through his words and kept his eyes locked on Rebekah's. He wanted to force the issue in such a way that Rebekah would be forced to answer truthfully if she was innocent.

After he said this, Rebekah crumpled in the chair she had been sitting in and covered her face with her hands.

"No, that's not what happened at all." she moaned quietly.

Warrick leaned a little bit closer. "Then, please, tell us what did happen. We need you to fill in the pieces. You're the only one who can."

Sitting up straighter, Rebekah clenched her fists in determination. "About a month before graduation, the two of us were working at his house on a project for our English class. Jack's parents were out of town so we were all alone. We finished our project and just started talking. Everything was so nice and we were having a really great time. And that's when it happened. He kissed me."

"He kissed you?" Nick asked while she paused her story. He certainly hoped there was more to it than that.

Rebekah blushed. "Yes. I'd never been kissed before. You see, I didn't date much - at all actually - in high school. Anyway, it was a nice kiss and I enjoyed it very much because I did have strong feelings for Jack. I kissed him back. Gradually, things got a bit more serious and one thing lead to another."

"You slept with him." Warrick stated, gathering her meaning.

She nodded. "The next day, I was so ashamed over what I had done. I had professed to believe all these things and made a point to try and live my life differently, but I turned into a hypocrite and made myself out to be a liar. I was so angry with myself. So disappointed. I wouldn't see Jack anymore after that. I was afraid of what I might do or say. Then I found out that I was pregnant. That's really why I went to Arizona after graduation. I went there to live with my grandparents and have my baby. That was my decision, not my parents. I didn't want anyone to know about what I'd done."

"So no one knew that you were pregnant? Not even Jack?" Nick asked.

"No. Like I said, I wouldn't talk to him. He thought that I hated him, but I just hated myself for turning into the kind of person I swore I'd never become." Rebekah hung her head and stared at her hands.

"What happened to the baby?" Warrick asked.

"I gave her up for adoption. I wanted her to grow up with a mother and a father. I thought that was the best thing for her. I was so young and didn't feel that I could provide her with what she really needed." Rebekah confessed sadly.

"What changed? I mean, you came back here and went to your reunion. Did something happen?" Nick asked.

"I finally reached a place where I could forgive myself for what I did and then I started to feel guilty about how I treated Jack. Just before the reunion, I called him and told him that I wanted to see him so we could talk. I suggested that we meet at the reunion." Rebekah told them.

"_So Rebekah was one of the people Jack was supposed to meet up with at the reunion_." Nick thought to himself.

She continued. "When he arrived at the reunion, we snuck out the side door and walked around the track. I told Jack everything. About the baby. My struggles to forgive myself. My intense feelings of guilt over how I treated him. Everything."

"How did he take it?" Nick asked. He could only imagine how he'd respond if he had been Jack.

"Surprisingly well." Rebekah said with a small smile. "He told me that he was sorry for what happened between us. He said that he still loved me."

Her brows furrowed a bit as she seemed to be recalling something unpleasant. "Jack said that things were about to change, but that he wanted me to know how much he loved me. He said that my phone call had made him see that it wasn't too late to fix things. I asked him what he meant by that, but he wouldn't say. He just told me that he had some business to take care of and that he'd see me later at the reunion and we could talk more. At the time, it didn't strike me as too odd, but now, as I'm remembering it again in light of all that's happened, it seems unusual."

"And you have no idea what he was talking about? No idea what he wanted to fix? No idea what things were about to change?" Warrick asked. He could feel the headache begin to build up again with renewed force. They were about to hit another brick wall.

Rebekah closed her eyes and thought hard for a few minutes. "No. I have no idea. If something bad happened, it must have happened after we stopped hanging out. Otherwise, I would have known about it. Jack and I knew each other very well and I'm quite sure I would have sensed it if something was off. The whole time I knew him, Jack never hurt me or anyone else to my knowledge."

She bit her lip, an action which made Nick say, "You don't seem so sure about that."

Rebekah hesitated before answering him. "There were only a handful of people who had any kind of influence over Jack. He was a very strong person - definitely more of a leader than a follower - but if he was depressed or something, he could have been swayed to do something he, under normal circumstances, would never have done."

"Do you think he was depressed after you parted ways?" Nick asked.

"Well, I know I was. From what I could tell from seeing him around school, he wasn't himself but whether that's just from what happened between us or something else, I couldn't tell you." Rebekah shook her head.

"Who had influence over Jack?" Warrick asked.

"Freddie and Victoria were pretty influential back then. Even Stella was at times. I guess I was too." Rebekah admitted. "Don't get me wrong. Jack was his own person and did what he wanted, but every now and then, when he was down, he was susceptible to the influence of others. I think that could be said of everyone at times though."

A silence fell between them which was broken by Rebekah's heart-aching sigh. "I'm just glad that I got the chance to patch things up with him before he died."

* * *

Nick threw himself on his couch so completely bone weary yet wide awake. After hearing Rebekah's story, he and Warrick had reached the same conclusion. Jack Moyer was not the rapist they had thought he was, and Rebekah Prescott was not the manipulating puppet master, pulling Linton Elwell's strings so as to exact revenge upon her victimizer.

This did not mean that Linton was no longer a suspect however as Warrick was quick to point out. He still felt that Linton was guilty or at least hiding something, and if Jack had been a part of something shady, Linton most likely knew what it was.

Nick contemplated what Rebekah had said about influence. Given what he knew about Jack and Rebekah, he couldn't help but thinking that Rebekah probably had more influence on Jack than she realized. She was a good, wholesome girl who cared about others and had probably unknowingly inspired Jack to behave in the same manner. There was no greater inspiration for change than love.

When Jack lost Rebekah and her good influence, had someone else taken her place? Was it Freddie? Nick could imagine what kind of influence Freddie had on Jack - one of that involved a lot of wild partying. Was it Victoria? Nick wasn't sure what kind of influence Victoria had on Jack. She seemed a bit cold and arrogant, but that didn't make her an evil person. And who knew what kind of influence Stella would have on a person? Had one of them lead Jack astray and encouraged him to do something that he regretted? If so, what was it?

Nick rubbed a weary hand across his face. All of these thoughts were not helping. He needed to clear his mind and relax so he could come at the case tomorrow with fresh eyes.

Bolting suddenly from the couch, Nick walked over to his bookshelf and kneeled down to look at the bottom shelf.

Where was it?

His eyes spotted the somewhat worn red book and he pulled it out. His high school yearbook from his senior year. Sitting down, he let the book fall open on his lap and started to flip through the pages. He let his mind get lost in the memories those photos brought forth. Some were good and some were bad, but all of them played a role in shaping the man he had become today.

So absorbed in his thoughts, Nick never noticed the figure lurking just outside in the shadows.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The next morning, Nick woke feeling refreshed. He had regained some of the confidence that had been worn away by the frustration of the case. After a good night's sleep, he felt prepared to attack the case with fresh eyes.

Nick didn't quite understand it, but this case had him on edge. He was feeling an intense desire to prove himself. Perhaps it had to do with Victoria's premise, which was still lingering at the back of his mind. Before collapsing into bed last night, he had spent the better part of an hour reminiscing about his high school days, wondering what had happened to his old buddies. He wondered if his old classmates spent as much time dealing with their old high school insecurities as he had the tendency to do every now and then.

He grabbed a quick bite to eat before stepping out his front door. As he did so he felt his foot collide with something. Nick looked down and saw a package lying on his doormat.

He stooped down to pick it up, but hesitated when he saw what was written on it. It was addressed to CSI Stokes, not Nick. His gut told him something wasn't right and that this package should be treated delicately.

Glancing around, he saw nothing suspicious. Nothing out of the ordinary except for this package lying on his doormat. He walked to his car and opened the trunk where he kept his kit. He snapped on a pair of latex gloves and grabbed a large evidence bag. Walking back to his front door, he bent down and picked up the package, noting its weight with growing curiosity.

He stowed the evidence bag in the seat next to him and began to drive towards the lab. Every now and then, he'd steal a glance at the package as if it were a bomb that was about to go off, which he reminded himself unpleasantly, it very well could be.

Nick could feel his heart begin to pound as his mind raced with a variety of thoughts. Who had sent the package? What was inside? Did it contain evidence pertaining to the case or was it something more personal?

Arriving at the lab, he grabbed the evidence bag and made his way inside.

"Hey, partner. What'cha got there?" Warrick asked, coming alongside Nick.

"I don't know. Found it on my doorstep." Nick replied, raising it a bit higher for Warrick to see.

Warrick's eyes widened in suspicion. "Really? What do you think is in it?"

"Don't know. Wanna find out with me?" Nick gave Warrick a mischievous smile.

Together, they walked into a lab room and Nick set the package on a table. They both slipped on a pair of latex gloves. Very carefully, Nick opened the evidence bag and pulled out the package. He took the small knife that Warrick handed him and slit the package open.

Sharing an apprehensive look with Warrick, Nick stuck a hand inside the package and felt his fingers close on something metallic. He knew instinctively what it was.

"Oh man. You're not gonna believe this." Nick said as he retrieved his gloved hand. His fingers were gripping the hilt of a gun.

"Is that a nine millimeter?" Warrick asked, astounded.

Nick nodded. He gave Warrick a look. "What do you wanna bet that this is the gun that killed Jack Moyer?"

"I'd say that's a fair bet, but I don't know why you have it." Warrick replied.

"Maybe we're finally catching a break in this case." Nick said. "Let's print the gun and the envelope it came in."

And then we'll have Bobby do a test comparison of the bullets we pulled out of the victim and ones fired from this gun." Warrick finished.

* * *

The gun came back clean as it had been wiped down, so they sent it to Bobby in order for him to do a comparison of the bullets. They had more luck with the envelope as it had not been wiped down. Warrick had been able to recover some workable prints and he had been given to Jacqui who was going to run them through the database.

"Okay, say this is our murder weapon. Who turned it in and why did they leave it on your doorstep? Did the killer suddenly get struck with a guilty conscience? Did someone else find the gun, assume it was the murder weapon, and then leave it for you to find so the investigation could move forward? And why go to the trouble of wiping down the gun but be so careless as to leave your prints all over the envelope? And why leave it on your doorstep? Why not take it to the cops or bring it to the lab? It doesn't make sense." Warrick sighed heavily as he and Nick made their way to Bobby's workstation.

"Maybe someone found the gun and figured it was the murder weapon. He or she would be afraid to go to the cops because they'd want to know where the person got the gun. Rather than implicate themselves, they leave it on my doorstep trusting that I'd know what to do with it." Nick theorized.

Lab technicians were scurrying around the hallway, dodging the CSIs as they went about their way. It seemed that the typical hustle and bustle of their work had resumed. Greg darted past them with a paper clutched tightly in his hands and only allowed himself to be distracted long enough to give Nick and Warrick a nod of greeting, which they returned.

Nick continued with his thoughts. "As for the prints, maybe they were just really upset and weren't thinking clearly. People can get stupid when they're clouded by emotions. Of course, maybe the killer planted to prints in order to frame someone else before leaving it outside my front door."

Warrick furrowed his brow and refrained from uttering his thoughts about Nick's last comment. It did not sit well with him to think that a murderer was prowling around late at night outside of his friend's home. The last thing Nick needed was to have another person invading his privacy like that. Of course, danger seemed to cling to Nick like a shadow.

"And you didn't see or hear anything strange at your place last night?" Warrick asked, trying not to sound too overly concerned for his friend's safety.

"Not a thing." Nick answered. "If this person had wanted to hurt me, they wouldn't have left a loaded gun on my doormat. They would have made use of it. All this person wanted was for me to find the gun and I did."

The note of finality in Nick's voice let Warrick know it was time to drop the subject. Deep down, Warrick knew that Nick was probably right in thinking that he wasn't in any danger. It was just that Warrick couldn't help be feel a bit apprehensive given his partner's track record and he'd rather overanalyze than get caught napping and have Nick pay the price.

They found Bobby hunched over a microscope, carefully examining the object underneath it.

"Hey, Bobby! Tell us what you got!" Nick greeted the tech cheerfully as a clapped a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" the man drawled as he moved aside to accommodate Nick. "The bullet on your left is the one recovered from your victim. The one on the right is from the gun that showed up miraculously on your front doorstep."

Nick peered inside the microscope and saw what he had been expecting to see. "It's a match."

He stepped aside so Warrick could take a look as Bobby stated confidently, "These bullets were definitely fired from the same gun."

Warrick lifted his head, looking satisfied.

"And in case you were wondering, the gun's unregistered. I guess you can't have everything handed to you. That'd be too easy." Bobby teased, a wide smile plastered across his face.

Nick returned the smile. "Thanks, Bobby. Great work as usual."

"My pleasure." Bobby said with a nod of his head.

A beep emanated from Warrick's waist and he grabbed his pager. He looked up at Nick, a renewed sense of excitement shown from his eyes. "It's Jacqui. We got a hit."

They quickly made their way down the hallway towards the print lab. So great was their anticipation that they almost collided with Sara who was exiting the lab.

"Slow down there, boys." she said with a playful smile.

"Sorry Sara. Hot case." Nick apologized.

"I'd except nothing less than your usual enthusiasm, Nick." She patted his arm as he slid past her into the lab.

Warrick rested his knuckles on the counter and looked at Jacqui expectantly. "You got a name for us?"

Jacqui waved a paper in her hand and deliberately gave a long sigh.

"Come on, Jacqui. You're killing us." Nick whined.

"Aw, lighten up. A girl's gotta have her fun." Jacqui smiled. "Your prints belong to one Linton Elwell. His prints are on file since he works at the Tropicana."

Warrick and Nick exchanged a meaningful look. Yes, things were finally starting to come together. If they were lucky, they'd have this case wrapped up by lunch time.

"Let's get Brass and go talk to Mr. Elwell." Warrick suggested, unable to hide his enthusiasm.

* * *

An hour later, Brass stood outside of Linton's house with the two CSIs and a warrant. He raised his fist to knock, but when it impacted against the wood, the door creaked open.

"Mr. Elwell?" Brass called out.

There was no answer.

"Las Vegas Police! Mr. Elwell, your door's open! May we come in?" he called out again.

There was still no answer.

Not liking the feeling in the pit of his stomach, Brass unholstered his gun and raised it. The detective shot the CSIs a look which clearly indicated that he was going in first and they were not about to argue. Instead, they too unholstered their guns and prepared to follow Brass inside.

Brass stepped inside the house and walked carefully through the room, his eyes peeled for any sign of movement. Nick and Warrick allowed the detective to move a few feet ahead of them before entering Linton's house. There was absolutely no sound anywhere which was slightly unsettling.

"Uh, fellas, you might want to take a look at this." Brass called from the next room.

The men followed the sound of Brass' voice into the room and stopped short. Hanging from a beam was the body of Linton Elwell.

Warrick exhaled in amazement while Nick swiped a hand across his forehead. Looking away, Nick saw a folded piece of paper on the table next to Linton's dangling form.

"Hey." Nick nodded in the direction of the note and

Warrick grabbed the pair of gloves that he had stuck in his pocket and slipped them on.

Grabbing the piece of paper, he read aloud, "I'm so sorry for what I've done. I'm sorry that I could never be the kind of man that Jack was. I'm sorry for letting the jealousy consume me. I am sorry for the weakness that has always been a part of me. I'm sorry for killing Jack. Forgive me."

Warrick glanced up at Nick with a meaningful look in his eyes. "Looks like we found our murderer."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: I'm going away for the weekend, but I wanted to leave you with this little gift.**

Chapter Seven

When a suicide has been discovered, everything becomes so still. There's no squawking of police radios, no flashing red and blue lights, no need for a large police presence as the murderer and the victim is the same person. Such a contrast as to when a homicide has been discovered.

After Linton's body had been found, Nick called the coroner while Warrick began to photograph the body.

"So Freddie was right about Linton. He couldn't stand living in the shadow of his cousin so he killed him." Warrick said between shots.

"Seems to be the case." Nick admitted.

"What is it?" Warrick asked. He could sense his partner was a bit melancholy.

Nick sighed. "I don't like this."

"What's to like? The guy killed his cousin and then offed himself. Any way you look at it, it's not a pretty picture." Warrick said, bringing the camera up to his face again. He zoomed in on the noose and snapped a photo.

Warrick turned to look at Nick, who had remained silent and staring at the floor. In an attempt to lighten his partner's mood, he said with a smile, "Oh I get it. You just don't like that I was right all along about our boy over here. Aren't you glad we didn't make a wager on this case?"

Nick pulled a face before exhaling.

"You know Nick, not everyone is a saint." Warrick told his friend quietly.

"Preaching to the choir, bro." Nick spread his hands with a smile. It faded slightly as he said, "I guess deep down I was kinda hoping this guy was different."

"Hey fellas." David greeted as he entered the room.

"Super Dave!" Nick said renewing his smile. "Wanna take a look at Mr. Elwell here?"

The coroner walked over to the body, which was still hanging from the rafters and peered up at it. "Hmm. Looks like a suicide. Death by asphyxiation I'd wager."

"Very astute." Warrick teased.

"That's why they pay me the big bucks." David returned with that small smile of his.

Both of the CSIs really liked David. The young coroner had a unique sense of humor that was hidden under his somewhat nerdy appearance. He had a very calming presence and no one could doubt that he was good at his job.

"Hey, I'm gonna step outside and check with Brass." Nick told his partner as he left the room.

When he arrived outside, the CSI found Brass talking to a very flustered Rebekah Prescott.

She rushed forward when she saw Nick. She immediately began to bombard him with questions. "He won't well me anything. What's going on in there? Is Linny alright?"

Nick swallowed. This was the part of his job that he hated most. "Miss Prescott, there's no easy way to tell you this, but Mr. Elwell's dead."

Rebekah's face blanched. "What? How?"

"He committed suicide." Nick told her quietly. He offered her a sympathetic smile.

"What? No! Why would he do that?" Rebekah was beside herself. Her green eyes were wide with disbelief.

Nick didn't answer her immediately. He was trying to think of the best way to answer her question. How could he just tell her that her friend had killed the man she loved? It turned out he didn't need to.

Rebekah put a hand over her mouth. "You think he committed suicide because he killed Jack."

"That's what it said in his note." Nick nodded glumly.

Rebekah's face hardened. "No. You're wrong. Linton would never, ever, hurt Jack."

"That's not what the evidence is telling us." Nick said quietly but firmly. He felt sorry for her. Things like this were so hard for the people left behind.

"Well then it's wrong! I know Linton! The man you're describing is not him! He was a good man with a kind heart. He may not have been a brave man, but he would never do such a cowardly thing like committing a murder. Trust me. I knew him. You didn't. Someone set him up." Rebekah's eyes blazed with an intensity that Nick hadn't known she was capable of possessing.

Nick hesitated. He understood her frustration. "Miss Prescott..."

"Tell me, if Linny was planning to kill himself, why would he call me and beg me to come over here? He said that he needed to talk - that it was urgent." The red-head gave Nick a defiant look, daring him to offer an explanation contrary to the one she was holding to.

"It's possible that he wanted you to be the one to find his body, trusting that you would take care of the situation." Nick said.

At this, she hung her head, shaking it slowly. When she raised her head, Rebekah's anger had faded and had been replaced by such an intense grief that it nearly broke Nick's heart. "Mr. Stokes, I just lost two of my closest friends. Please tell me that you'll examine every piece of evidence. I know there's more going on here. I know this man. Promise me that you won't write his death off without a thorough investigation."

Her plea tugged at his heart and he nodded solemnly. "We will examine every piece of evidence. That's our job, but I can't promise you the answer you want to hear."

Though far from being reassured, Rebekah accepted his answer. "Thank you. I know you'll do your best."

* * *

"Tell me why we're doing this again?" Warrick asked, giving Nick a look. He stood over the body of Linton Elwell with a swab in his hand.

Doc Robbins had examined the body, telling them that the cause of death had been asphyxiation. The only ligature mark had been the one created by the rope so that ruled out the possibility that Linton had been strangled by another means and then his body posed to look like a suicide. Warrick wanted to be done with it and call the case closed, but Nick had not been willing to do so just yet.

"I made a promise to a lady." Nick sighed. He grabbed one of Linton's hands and began to scrape under his nails. Flecks of skin began to come out from under them. More than what was usual.

Nick looked up at Warrick. "I got skin. Lots of it."

Warrick leaned down to examine what Nick had collected.

"Could indicate a possible sign of struggle." he admitted. "But there are no other wounds on his body - defensive or offensive."

"Maybe someone surprised him, threw the rope around his neck, and strangled him. He could have reached back and scratched the hands of the person killing him in an effort to try and free himself. We should swab the rope for epithelials." Nick said.

"We got a suicide note, Nick. How do you explain that? You think the killer told Linton Elwell to write his own suicide note and he did it without question? Come on, man! No one's that dumb." Warrick's voice had a touch of exasperation in it.

Nick's eyes hardened in determination. "That's why I think we should take the note to QD for a handwriting comparison analysis."

Warrick sighed in defeat. If Nick wanted to go the distance, he'd be right there alongside him. "Okay. Let's see what Ronnie can tell us."

* * *

The two men opted to divide and conquer. Warrick took the rope and swabbed it, recovering some epithelials, which he gave to Greg so he could compare them with the samples collected from under Linton's nails. He also dusted the suicide note while Nick went back to Linton's home to collect a sample of his handwriting for comparison. Warrick pulled a few partials from the note and gave them to Jacqui.

Upon returning to the lab, Nick took the note and the sample he had collected to the Questionable Documents lab.

"Hey Ronnie, I need you to do a comparison for me. I need to know if this suicide note was actually written by our victim." Nick told the tech as he handed him the documents.

"Sounds interesting. Let me guess. Mysterious circumstances surrounding your apparent suicide, huh?" Ronnie asked with interest.

Nick nodded. "Something like that."

Ronnie set both documents in front of him and studied them carefully. He mumbled something under his breath and whipped out a magnifying glass.

Nick stood silently with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting for Ronnie's final verdict. While he was waiting, Warrick sidled up next to him. Nick could tell by the look on his face that Warrick had big news.

"What'cha got?" he asked.

"Greg confirmed that the skin samples found under Linton's finger nails are a match to the epithelials that I recovered from the rope. The DNA belongs to a male." Warrick said with half smile.

"Hmm. That narrows down our list of suspects considerably." Nick said, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

Warrick allowed his smile to get wider. "It gets even better. Jacqui matched one of the partials I lifted from the suicide note to Freddie McFarlane. Linton Elwell did not commit suicide. He was murdered by Freddie and the whole thing was staged. Freddie must have forged the note. I can hardly believe it, but Rebekah was right."

"Not so fast, guys." Ronnie broke in, looking up from his work. "This note is not a forgery."

Both CSIs whipped their heads around to stare at Ronnie in amazement.

"What? Are you sure?" Nick asked incredulously.

"Most definitely. Take a look at this." Ronnie gestured for the men to come closer.

"Look at the way the defining characteristics of the letters such as the loops and the way the t's are crossed. They're the same on both documents. The writing on the suicide note is sloppier but emotional distress can wreak havoc on a person's penmanship. Sorry guys, but your victim wrote this note." Ronnie said simply.

Disenchanted, Nick and Warrick left the QD lab. They walked the length of the hallway in silence, each man lost in his own thoughts.

"This case is giving me headache. Nothing makes sense. You got any ideas?" Nick asked as he rubbed his forehead.

"Yeah, try this on for size. Based on what we've uncovered so far, I think Linton Elwell killed his cousin. We knew from our conversation with Freddie that he was suspicious of Linton. I think he either pieced together what happened or managed to get Linton to confess what he did and then Freddie killed him. He was motivated by revenge. You heard how close he and Jack were." Warrick theorized.

Nick digested this slowly. It seemed a plausible explanation.

"Maybe Linton wanted to be found out, but couldn't quite bring himself to the point where he was willing to turn himself in. Perhaps that's why he left the gun on my doorstep. The man was an emotional wreck, plagued by his guilt." Nick said, building on Warrick's theory.

He continued. "That could explain why he wrote the note. He could have been contemplating suicide or fleeing the city or just leaving it somewhere for someone to find. Perhaps Freddie found it and decided to put it to good use. You know, the note never actually referenced Linton's intent to kill himself."

"That's true. Perhaps Freddie can fill in the blanks." Warrick said.

* * *

Warrick had called the Tropicana and been informed that Freddie had already left for the day, but that he almost always went to the same bar before going home. After hearing this, the two CSIs got into their vehicle and took off for Joe's Bar.

Warrick had toyed briefly with the idea of calling Brass so that he could meet them at the bar, but after one look at his partner, he decided not to. Nick had channeled all of the frustration this case had created for him into the task of apprehending Freddie and Warrick knew that the mere mention of calling for backup would just annoy him. Besides, he figured that he and Nick were more than a match for Freddie, who by now had probably knocked back a couple of drinks, if he tried to do something rash.

"How do you wanna play this?" Warrick asked, shifting his eyes to his partner, who was drumming his fingers anxiously on the armrest. He could sense that Nick was ready for action and he could feel the same excitement building up inside of himself, which made it even more critical that they were on the same page before talking to Freddie.

"Let's ease into it. Pretend like we're just there to let him know about Linton's confession and then let him have it. Just follow my lead." Nick turned to look at Warrick, allowing the other man to glimpse the fire in his eyes.  
There was something infuriating about people who took the law into their own hands. On one level, Nick could understand what Freddie did. He had wanted to avenge his friend - the man who had been like a brother to him. But nothing gave a person the license to kill. It was not Freddie's right to decide whether Linton should live or die. It was not his right to deal out death and judgement. Society could not allow men to take matters like this into their own hands. That would just lead to chaos.

Pressing his lips into a thin line of determination, Nick exited the vehicle with Warrick in tow. They made their way towards the bar in silence. Nick pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The bar was relatively empty with only a few patrons scattered around the room. Nick's eyes quickly spotted Freddie, who was drinking alone at the counter. The CSIs sidled up next to him and sat down on either side of Freddie, who made no notice of the two men but continued to drink steadily from his glass. The bartender seemed to get the vibe that they were not here to drink and so did not approach them. Instead, he moved towards the end of the counter and began to start wiping down some glasses, stealing a look at the three men every so often.

"I thought you might like to know that we know who killed Jack. Linton Elwell confessed to his murder." Nick said, turning his head slightly to the left to look at Freddie. He tried to keep his tone even which was difficult considering the emotions he was feeling.

Freddie didn't bother to turn his head. "Must have been easy to get a confession out of him. Linny was never able to withstand a lot of pressure."

Nick hardened his gaze. "Actually, he wrote it in a suicide note. We were going to go speak to him and we found him hanging from a beam in his home."

Freddie gave a small chuckle. "Why does that not surprise me? Sounds like something he'd do."

"In his note, he apologized for killing Jack and for being weak." Nick's voice began to rise slightly but not to the level that would warrant stares from the other bar patrons.

"Definitely sounds like Linny. He was always sorry for something." Freddie took another drink from his glass and continued to stare straight ahead. On his left, Warrick watched the man in amazement. Sometimes, he didn't understand how people could be so cold-hearted.

"I bet you'll be more sorry when you find out that you left your DNA all over the rope that killed Linton and your skin under his fingernails. Not to mention your prints on the suicide note." Nick's voice dropped to a deadly level.

Freddie turned his head slowly and let his eyes connect with Nick's steely gaze. The truth of Nick's words sunk in immediately.

Without warning, Freddie kicked Nick's stool out from under him while simultaneously twisting his body around to grab Warrick's gun. With his left hand, he grabbed Warrick around the neck and used his combined weight and strength to push both of them away from the counter.

By the time Nick had gotten to his feet and drawn his own gun, Freddie was using Warrick's body as a shield and had the gun pointing at Warrick's temple. Freddie clearly had not lost any of his athletic abilities over the years nor had his senses been dulled by the alcohol he had been consuming. In fact, his eyes were alert and a fierce determination was etched on his face.

Tightening his grip on Warrick's neck, Freddie snarled, "Lower your gun or your buddy's gonna die."


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: I posted just before the site went down so some people might have missed it. Make sure you've read Ch7 before this one. Enjoy!**

Chapter Eight

"I said lower your gun!" Freddie repeated loudly, pressing the muzzel of the gun against Warrick's temple.

The bar had gone deathly quiet. Everyone had become immediately paralyzed at the first sign of danger. Drinks sat forgotten on the table as people watched the standoff between CSI and suspect. There was nothing more sobering than a life or death struggle.

Nick shook his head firmly. "I'm not gonna let you walk out of here. Especially not with him."

The calmness in his voice belied his emotional state. He had not expected this kind of reaction from Freddie and from the look on Warrick's face, neither had he. Nick tried to keep his face void of any fear for the sake of his friend. He knew exactly what Warrick was feeling as he was usually the one whose life was being threatened. It was not an experience he would wish on anyone let alone his best friend.

Warrick had a somewhat defiant look on his face as if he was daring himself to show any sign of being afraid, but his eyes gave him a way. He stared steadily at his friend, which allowed Nick to see the battling emotions inside of him. His eyes were fearful yet brave. There was a confidence in them that was encouraging Nick, trusting in his ability to put an end to this situation as quickly as possible. Nick silently prayed that he would not let his friend down.

"You don't have a choice! Put the gun down!" Freddie snapped, peaking out from behind Warrick's head.

Nick's only response was to keep the gun firm in his outstretched hands. He was hoping that Freddie would get sloppy and provide him with an opportunity to take him down, but Freddie never allowed more than a fraction of himself to move out from behind Warrick. It was definitely not enough for Nick to wager taking a shot. He wouldn't risk hitting Warrick accidentally.

"I will kill him if I have to!" Freddie shouted as he took a step backwards, dragging Warrick with him.

Nick tried to ignore the way his heart was pounding in his chest. It felt as if it were about to burst at any moment given the way it was slamming against his rib cage. He could feel beads of sweat beginning to form across his forehead but withstood the temptation to wipe them away. He didn't want to show any signs of weakness.

"_Stay focused. Don't give into the panic. Get him talking. Keep control of the situation._" a voice inside of him admonished.

"Like you killed Linton?" Nick asked quietly, not moving an inch. The CSI kept his face mask-like, knowing that it was a way to make himself appear more commanding than he actually felt.

Freddie gave a small laugh. "He didn't give me much of a choice. There was no other option."

"_Make him answer the questions you want him to. Make him fill in the blanks. It will buy you time to save your friend._" the voice advised.

Following the advice, Nick asked, "What do you mean by that?"

"The gun. He turned it in. I had to do something." Freddie said with a shake of his head.

The realization of Freddie's words hit Nick like a ton of bricks. Up till then, he had come to believe that Linton really had killed his cousin. That at least made sense to him on some level - the weaker man taking his frustrations out on the stronger man. He had assumed that Freddie had found out about it and killed him out of revenge given the strong bond that he and Jack had shared during high school. But now, that didn't seem to be the case.

"You killed Jack." It wasn't a question.

Freddie didn't say a word, but the act of sticking his head out from behind Warrick's allowed Nick to glimpse the truth in his eyes.

Nick was stunned. "Why?"

Again, Freddie remained silent. Some of the intensity had left his face, but his grip on Warrick and the gun remained as strong as ever.

In an effort to keep Freddie talking, Nick asked, "Did Linton find out that you killed him? Did he take the gun from you?"

"No. He didn't know. I put the gun in his house." Freddie said, the angry tone of his voice was replaced with a less confident one. "I knew you'd look at him first since he found the body. Add that with his nervous behavior and he didn't exactly look innocent."

"How did you get him to write that note?" Nick asked, astonished.

"If you had known Linton, you wouldn't ask that question. Linton was always so easy to manipulate." Freddie scoffed.

"You were trying to frame him." Nick said, the anger was rising in him. In his mind's eye, he saw Linton Elwell struggling in vain against the rope held in the strong hands of Freddie McFarlane as the life was choked out of him. He felt a renewed since of pity for Linton.

Freddie appeared not to hear Nick. He continued speaking, lost in his own thoughts. "I thought you'd find the gun when you searched his house and that'd be it. I never thought Linny would be fool enough to turn the gun in. I should have known though. Nothing goes the way I expect it too."

Nick detected a faint trace of sorrow in the man's voice. Freddie's emotions were taking a decidedly different turn. This was the sign Nick had been hoping for. If Freddie was willing to talk, there might be a way to diffuse this situation without violence.

Throughout this conversation, Warrick had been playing the part of the good hostage. He had not tried to do anything heroic because antics like that were how people ended up dead. No, he knew better. He needed to let Nick do what he could and be patient. Instead, he tried to content himself with listening to the exchange of words between Freddie and Nick. He was proud of the calm manner in which Nick was handling all of this and promised to tell him so if they made it out of this alive.

"Why did you kill Jack?" Nick repeated his question.

"I had to. I didn't want to do it. I wanted to find another way, but there wasn't one." Freddie answered rather breathlessly.

Nick shook his head. "I don't buy that. There is always another way."

"You don't understand! I had no choice!" Freddie's face was contorted in a mixture of anger and frustration.

"Then help me understand." Nick tried to keep his voice calm.

"My life's a mess. Everything's a mess. I've messed everything up." Freddie's voice cracked with emotion. He shifted his eyes downward and shook his head in bewilderment.

Freddie seemed to be having difficulty focusing so Nick tried a different tactic. "He was like a brother to you. You sat across from me at a table and told me how you could never betray a bond like that. But you lied. You did betray that bond. Why? What would possess you to kill Jack?"

"You're right. I did betray him. He never would have done that to me, but I was never noble like him." Freddie mumbled. Though his face was partially construed by Warrick's head, Nick could see tears beginning to streak down Freddie's face. The man was clearly falling apart under the enormous weight of his guilty conscience._  
_

This was all well and good as far as a confession went, but Nick wanted to know why. Once more, he asked, "But why? Why did you kill him?"

"Because she told me too!" Freddie shouted, jerking Warrick by the neck.

Again, Nick was stunned. "She? Who told you to kill Jack?"

Freddie shook his head in sorrow. Nick could feel panic begin to rise in his chest. Freddie was losing it, giving into the desperation he was feeling, and desperate men were often some of the most dangerous people to deal with.

"I betrayed him just like Judas." he whispered.

_"What won't a man do if he's properly motivated?" _Freddie's words rang in Nick's head and he understood. This woman, whoever she was, had paid Freddie to kill Jack.

"Freddie, listen to me. You can help yourself. Tell me who told you to kill Jack. There's still time to do the right thing. Tell me who you were working with." Nick tried to offer the man some hope.

"No. It's too late. It's not going to bring Jack back. It's not going to bring Daniel back." Freddie cried.

"Daniel? Who's Daniel?" Nick asked. He vaguely wondered what other bombshells Freddie was on the verge of dropping. He didn't know how much more he could take.

"Daniel Motz!" Freddie shouted as if Nick was supposed to know who this was.

"What does he have to do with Jack's death?" Nick asked.

"Everything." Freddie whispered. "I'm sorry."

Nick heard an all-too familiar sound - the cocking of a gun. He felt his heart drop as he saw Warrick's body tense. Freddie had reached the end of his tether and was going to shoot Warrick right here in front of him if Nick didn't do something now.

"No! Wait!" he pleaded, taking a step towards the two men.

Freddie suddenly released Warrick and took a step back. The gun went off with a loud bang. Nick's eyes widened in fear as he moved forward to catch his friend, but Warrick was not the one who fell to the ground.

Behind Warrick, Freddie's body fell with a dull thud. Warrick whirled around to look at him and saw that the back part of his skull was missing. Freddie had put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. The person that possessed all the information they needed was dead.

* * *

Jim Brass was not a happy man.

The detective had cornered Nick and Warrick just outside of the bar and was letting them have it. "What were you thinking coming here without any backup? The guy was a murderer!"

Nick and Warrick exchanged guilty looks. What were they supposed to say? Sorry wasn't going to cut it. The cops and EMTs who were on the scene shot the pair looks of sympathy. It was no fun being on the receiving end of one of Detective Brass' emotional tirades.

"We were clouded by our zeal." Nick mumbled finally, not meeting Brass' eyes directly.

"Your zeal? How about your stupidity?" Brass shouted, rounding on Nick. "Do I really have to give you a lecture on the dangers of confronting a suspect or have you forgotten Amy Hendler and Nigel Crane? Look what happened! Warrick could have died and you let your suspect commit suicide right in front of you!"

Feeling that he ought to step in, Warrick said, "It wasn't Nick's fault. He - "

Brass cut him off by jabbing a finger into the younger man's chest. "And don't even get me started on you! You let a suspect take your weapon and hold you hostage with it!"

Warrick looked away, his checks flushed with anger and shame.

Brass sighed and looked away. When he spoke again, his anger was gone and he was practically pleading with them. "You gotta be more careful. Your job is to collect the evidence. Not to go off chasing after the suspects. That's our job. We're supposed to be there for your protection. You gotta let us do our jobs or next time you might not be so lucky."

Both CSIs felt properly chastised as the detective stormed away. They knew that they had messed up and been extremely lucky. They also knew that Brass' anger towards them stemmed from his concern for their lives. That didn't necessarily make the situation more bearable, but at least they knew where he was coming from.

Nick turned his head and saw the only person who could make him feel worse right now approaching them. Grissom. He sighed inwardly and steeled himself for whatever punishment his supervisor was about to hand down.

"Please tell me what happened." Grissom requested in a tone quite unlike the one Brass had been using.

Nick launched into an explanation of events. He tried hard to maintain eye contact with Grissom but it grew increasingly difficult as the story progressed.

"And it didn't cross your mind to request an officer to accompany you when you went to confront the suspect?" Grissom asked, looking directly at Nick.

"No sir. I was just focused on confronting the suspect." Nick admitted.

"You put your friend's life, not to mention your own, in danger to satisfy your own need to solve the case." There was a hint of disappointment in Grissom's otherwise steady tone.

Unwilling to let Nick take full responsibility for the situation, Warrick jumped in. "Don't be too hard on him, Grissom. I thought about calling for backup but I decided not to."

Grissom sighed at this. He alternated his gaze between Nick and Warrick as he sized them up and clearly found them wanting. "I don't know which is worse: The man who is so consumed that he rushes into harm's way without thinking or the man who makes the conscious decision to ingore protocol and rushes into harm's way without protection."

His words hung in the air. Nick and Warrick both waited for the hammer to fall.

It never did.

Instead, Grissom asked, "So what's your next move?"

Anxious to redeem himself, Nick rushed ahead with the thoughts that had been milling around in his head for the past hour. "Well, Freddie referred to himself as 'Judas'. I'm thinking that's a reference to the Judas from the bible who betrayed Jesus to his death for thirty pieces of silver."

Grissom gave Nick a look of surprise mingled with admiration.

Encouraged, Nick pressed forward, "He also said that someone, a female someone, told him to kill Jack. I'm thinking that this woman paid Freddie to kill Jack. Not a hit so much as she was buying his loyalty. Freddie didn't have a lot going for him and the idea of coming into some money might have outweighed any feelings of loyalty he had for Jack. There's a deeper issue going on here. Something involving a Daniel Motz, who I'm assuming is a fellow classmate. I'm not sure why, but he's the reason that Jack was killed."

"So you need to find out who Daniel is and establish his connection to the victim and your suspects." Grissom stated simply. "What about the female accomplice?"

"Both Victoria Winston and Stella Barnes would be capable of paying Freddie off. They're both doing well financially. I think we should look into Freddie's financial history and see if we can find out if someone's been paying him off." Warrick suggested.

Grissom nodded in agreement. The supervisor turned on his heel and began to walk away. He called out from over his shoulder. "Well, you better get to work."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

It's funny how things are never how they seem. Nothing illustrated that point better than crime-solving. The most likely candidate for the murder of Jack Moyer had turned out not only to be innocent, but to be a pawn in someone's deadly game. The man who appeared to have a loyal bond of brotherhood with Jack had been the one to kill him.

And there was some woman lurking in the shadows, pulling all of the strings. He imagined that this woman had lured Jack into the cafeteria, where Freddie had been waiting, to have their private conversation. Jack had probably never been aware of Freddie's presence. Nick wondered if the intention had been to kill Jack all along or if his death was determined by the result of their conversation. If it was the later, Jack might still be alive if he had given the desired answer.

Nick wondered who this puppet master was.

Was is Victoria Winston? She certainly seemed cold-hearted enough to order Freddie to get rid of Linton, but could she order the death of the man she loved? What motive would she have that would be strong enough for her to do such a thing?

Was it Stella Barnes? Sure she was flighty and self-centered, and she seemed to have no loyalties to anyone but herself. She didn't seem like the murdering type, but looks could be deceiving.

Nick's internal musings were cut short by Warrick.

"I want to thank you for what you did back there." Warrick said as his hands guided the steering wheel.

They were on their way to see Rebekah as Nick felt that they had an obligation to let her know that she had been right about Linton. Warrick agreed, but he was more interested to see if she had any information regarding Daniel Motz.

Both Nick and Warrick felt an intense desire to make amends for their near-fatal mistake. Both men knew how lucky they had been to make it out of that situation unscathed, physically and professionally. For this reason, Warrick remembered the promise he had made while Freddie was holding him hostage and wanted to make sure his friend knew how much he appreciated him.

"Which part? The part where I let the suspect knock me down, the part where I let him take you hostage, or the part where I let him commit suicide?" Nick asked bitterly as he glared out of the window.

"The part where you kept me calm. I was seriously freaked, but you stayed so calm, so confident, and that helped me more than you know. I knew that you were going to do whatever it took to help me. There's nothing like knowing your partner's willing to lay it all on the line for you." Warrick said gratefully.

Nick smiled in appreciation. "I just did what you would have done if the situation had been reversed."

"It's funny you should say that. I guess now I know what it's like to be you." Warrick said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Nick asked, shifting his eyes from the passing scenery to look at Warrick.

"Well, you're usually the one being threatened by the suspect." Warrick allowed a tiny fraction of a smile to cross his face.

"Very funny." Nick replied sarcastically. "Welcome to my world."

"I guess I'd never thought it'd happen to me." Warrick admitted. "I don't plan on getting used to it."

Nick turned his head in order to resume his scenery-gazing.

"You never get used to it." he whispered, speaking more to himself than Warrick. Even though it had not been him being held at gunpoint this time, fear had still gripped his body. He had not let it master him, but it had still been present. He hated that feeling.

Warrick wisely did not respond to this confession. He suddenly realized how lucky he had been to have Nick present throughout the entire situation. There had been no one there when Amy Hendler had pulled that gun on him, when Nigel Crane had tossed him through that window, or later when the man had crashed through his ceiling and forced Nick to endure his twisted mind games.

He hoped his friend would never have to be alone like that again.

* * *

Once again, Nick and Warrick found themselves knocking on the door of the Prescott residence. This time, however, they were coming with more answers than questions. 

Rebekah opened the door and when she saw then, bid them entrance somewhat apprehensively. "I assume that you have an answer for me."

"Yes, ma'am." Nick nodded as he sat down.

Rebekah sat rigidly in her chair and looked at him grimly. "Well, go on. I'm ready."

"You were right. Linton did not kill himself nor did he kill Jack." Nick informed her.

Immediately, her posture slackened as if an invisible weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She smiled wistfully, resting her head in her hand. "I know it might sound odd, but I'll rest easier now. Poor, sweet Linny. I knew he wasn't capable of murder."

Nick continued with his news. "Freddie McFarlane killed Linton. He was trying to frame him for Jack's murder, which he committed."

The weight that had been lifted from Rebekah's shoulders slammed down upon her once again with full force.

"What?" she asked incredulously. "Freddie killed Linton and Jack? I can't believe it! Has he been arrested yet?"

Nick glanced at Warrick before continuing. He wasn't sure how many details to give Rebekah, but he figured that she ought to know what happened to Freddie. "He shot himself after confessing to both murders."

"He what? So you're saying he's dead? Jack, Linton, and Freddie are all dead?" she asked, her face clouding with intense grief.

"Yes. I'm sorry." Nick apologized, hanging his head a bit.

They gave Rebekah a few minutes to absorb all of this. Learning that a former high school friend had been responsible for the death of two other friends was quite a lot to take in. Nick could tell that she was doing her utmost to remain calm and in control of herself.

Finally, she asked, "Did he tell you why he did it?"

Warrick leaned forward. "Freddie made reference to someone named Daniel Motz and indicated that there was a connection between him and Jack's death. Do you know who Daniel is?"

"Daniel? Yes, I know who he is but I can't see how there'd be a connection between him and Jack's death." Rebekah said with a bewildered look on her face.

"Why do you say that?" Warrick asked.

"Daniel's been dead for fifteen years. He committed suicide just before graduation." Rebekah told them.

Warrick and Nick exchanged another look. What did a fifteen-year-old suicide have to do with a present-day murder?

"How did he die?" Warrick asked.

"He threw himself off Lover's Leap." Rebekah said, dropping her head.

Lover's Leap was a high sort of cliff that overlooked part of the lake. About seventy years ago, a pair of star-crossed lovers had thrown themselves off the cliff and into a watery grave. People took to calling it Lover's Leap for this reason and the name had stuck over the years.

"What can you tell us about Daniel?" Nick asked.

"He was one of those loner types." Rebekah said. "He didn't have very many friends and he was very quiet. I don't know much about him other than that. I think we had maybe two classes together throughout our time in high school. I'm sorry, but I don't recall him having much interaction with Jack at all."

Back in the car, Warrick asked, "You think we should have told her that Freddie was someone's hangman?"

Nick shook his head. "What good would that have done? I don't think she knows anything. Anything she said in response to that would have been speculation and the only thing I'm interested in now are facts."

* * *

"Hey guys. Heard you had a close call with a suspect." Sara said by way of greeting. She wedged herself between Nick and Warrick who were heading down the hallway. 

Nick furrowed his brow. "Grissom spill the beans?"

"No." the brunette said with a tiny smile. "I ran into Brass last night. He was still quite upset. Can't say I blame him."

"We got lucky." Warrick admitted. "In more ways than one."

"Well, I just wrapped up my own robbery investigation, so I'm ready to lend a hand if you need one." Sara told them.

Nick smiled at her offer. Sara was a classic workaholic, always putting in for overtime and loving every minute of it. "Actually, we could use some help. We need to look into Freddie McFarlane's financial records."

"You want me to search financial records?" Sara asked, a touch of irritation in her voice. It was clear that she had been hoping for a more important assignment.

"Someone paid our murderer to kill Jack Moyer and we need to find out who that person is by examining his financial records. As of now, it's our only link to our criminal mastermind." Nick replied, trying to placate the young woman.

Sara arched her eyebrow in wonder and her eyes began to sparkle with intrigue. "So I could be searching for the casebreaker?"

"Oh yeah." Nick said with a knowing smile. He knew the right words to say in order to please Sara Sidle.

"I'm on it." she promised, brushing past the two men with an enthusiastic sense of excitement.

"Let us know what you find!" Nick called out to her retreating back. Sara responded by throwing up a hand in acknowledgment.

After assigning the task of searching Freddie's financial records to Sara, Nick and Warrick headed over to the home of Marsha Motz. They weren't sure what they were expecting to find. As Daniel had been dead for fifteen years, would it even be possible for them to find a connection between him and Jack after all these years by sifting through Daniel's things? Of course, that was assuming that his mother had kept some of his personal belongings. In all actuality, they were most likely chasing another dead end.

"Can I help you?" Marsha Motz opened the door, wearing a flour-covered apron. They appeared to have caught her in the middle of baking.

"Hello Mrs. Motz. Sorry to bother you. My name's Nick Stokes and this is Warrick Brown. We're with the Las Vegas Crime Lab and we'd like to ask you a few questions about your son, Daniel." Nick told her.

She looked as if Nick had struck her. Clutching the door for support, she whispered, "My Daniel? Why? What could you possibly want to know about him? He's been dead for so long."

"We believe that his death is connected to a murder that took place a couple of days ago. The victim was Jack Moyer, a former classmate of your son." Nick confessed.

Somewhat absentmindedly, she stepped aside and indicated with a wave of her hand for them to enter.

"I don't know if I can be of any help, but I'll try." she said as she lead them to the couch.

Nick spotted a picture sitting on the coffee table. It was of a teenage boy with dark eyes and eyebrows hidden behind thick-framed glasses. He had the faintest trace of a smile on his face that crept up into his eyes, making it appear as if the photo was taken seconds before he burst out laughing. He wasn't sure how or why, but Nick got the impression that Daniel had been a young man with very deep thoughts, the kind of person who sat around contemplating the meaning of life.

Marsha caught Nick staring at the photo and she grabbed the photo and handed it to him so he could have a better look. "That's my Daniel. This is one of my favorite photos of him. It was taken the summer before he died." she smiled tearfully as she recalled a happier time.

"What can you tell us about the night he died?" Part of Nick always hated asking these kinds of questions. He hated having to force people to relive painful memories, but sometimes pain was a necessary part of uncovering the truth.

"I'll never forget that night. He told me he was going out, which was unusual for him. At first, I wasn't going to let him go because I knew he still had some homework left to do, but he just seemed so happy that I didn't have the heart to tell him no. I hadn't seen him smile like that since before his father left. He was practically beaming. I wish now that I had told him no. Maybe things would have turned out differently." Her voice trailed off as she played with the apron she was wearing.

Nick's heart ached for Marsha Motz. It was clear that her grief was still very close to her heart, and he couldn't help but feel that by coming here, they had ripped open the wound once again.

"Had he made any previous suicide attempts before that night?" Warrick asked gently.

Marsha shook her head. "He was a poet, one of those romantic types, and he could be rather moody and depressed at times, but I never knew him to contemplate suicide or death. That's why it came as such a shock to me. I thought he was happy. In his own special way, that is."

"Do you happen to have any of his personal belongings, like a journal or something, that he might have wrote down his thoughts in? We're looking for anything that might give us a connection to our current murder investigation." Nick leaned forward as he asked this, trying to keep his voice sympathetic and yet focused on the task at hand.

She stood and walked over to a bookshelf and pulled out a tattered-looking, red journal. Walking back to her seat, she handed it to Nick. It was worn with years of use and its pages were full of the same meticulous printing.

"This belonged to my Daniel. He wrote in this everyday. Most of his poems are in here, along with some general thoughts he had. He put his heart and soul into his book. He took it everywhere with him." Marsha told them.

"Thank you. We'll take good care of it. I will to get it back to you as soon as possible." Nick promised.

"Please," Marsha pleaded, grabbing a hold of Nick's hand. "If you find out anything else about my son's death, please tell me. I've asked myself repeatedly where I went wrong. Was I a terrible mother? Did I drive him away like I did his father? Did I not listen enough to his problems? Did I not understand him? If you stumble across anything that will help me understand why he did what he did, promise that you will let me know."

The look in her eyes was so pitiful. It was the look of a woman who was a hollow shell of grief, unable to move on and unable to forget. Not breaking eye contact with her, Nick adjusted his hand so that he was holding hers. He squeezed it gently.

"I promise."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Daniel's notebook was full of interesting things. Though he might have been taciturn, Daniel's mind was far from inactive. Nick didn't consider himself to be an expert on poetry by any stretch of the imagination, but he thought many of Daniel's poems were quite good. He conveyed deep thoughts and hidden meanings in each line while simultaneously creating vivid pictures in the mind of the reader. There were also some entries that started off as the typical journal entry but then transformed into a mini-thesis on the human existence - addressing issues such as the meaning of life, the search for happiness, and the search for true love.

The most depressing aspect of the notebook was what it represented - the promising life of a creative mind vanishing before its time. Nick saw nothing in this notebook to indicate that Daniel had spent a lot time dwelling on his own death or death in general. Usually with suicides, their thoughts are turned towards death or they give some sort of indication as to what they're planning to do. Nick saw nothing like this in Daniel's writing, which made him believe that something horrible must have happened to him the night he died. Something so life-shattering that it forced him to take drastic measures, feeling that there was no way to overcome what he had suffered except through the sweet release of death.

What's more, Nick had been unable to find anything that would establish a connection between Daniel and Jack's death. Daniel never even made mention of Jack in his notebook. Indeed, nothing seemed to be standing out at all.

Except...

"Wait a minute." Nick muttered, sitting up poker-straight in his chair.

Instantly, Warrick was at his side. "You got something?" he asked eagerly.

"Maybe." Nick began to flip through the pages he had already read. "Daniel dated every entry, every poem. Starting in December of 1986, he started writing poems about the same girl. At least, I think it's an actual girl as opposed to a fictitious character. In his poems, he refers to her as a queen, how majestic she is. It's your basic love poem verbage. However, there's more to it than just that. He actually gives a clue in each poem as to who this mystery woman is. Taken individually, the reader might not figure it out, but when you add them together, things start to become clear."

"So what are these clues?" Warrick asked, trying to peer over Nick's shoulder.

"First, she's a monarch. Second, he makes reference to her reign over the isle, which I take to be Great Britain. Third, he refers to her Diamond Jubilee. Fourth, he states his desire to be her 'Albert.' He's talking about Queen Victoria, only I don't think she's the Victoria he's in love with." Nick said with a smile and a knowing look.

"You think Victoria Winston is the object of his affection." Warrick returned Nick's smile with one of his own. Now this was the kind of connection they were looking for.

"And given what we know of Victoria, I don't think she'd take too kindly to someone like Daniel confessing his love to her, especially since she was in love with Jack. That's assuming she even acknowledged his presence." Nick continued. "What if Jack and his buddies played a prank on Daniel and he didn't take it well?"

"There's no way Rebekah would have let them do anything like that if she had known about it." Warrick said, shaking his head.  
"But Jack and Rebekah had a falling out so Rebekah was no longer around, guiding Jack with her good influence. She said it herself that Jack could be swayed by his closest friends when he was depressed, and we know that he was after what happened with Rebekah. Maybe Freddie convinced Jack that it would be fun to mess around with Daniel regarding his feelings for Victoria." Nick said with mounting confidence.

"What about the money though?" Warrick asked. "How does Freddie getting paid off tie into all of this?"

"Assuming Victoria was in on it, and I'd figure she'd have to be since she's the one Daniel was in love with, she wouldn't want to sully her reputation. Being linked to a group that teased a fellow student to the point of committing suicide would not make her look good. I bet that it would have negative ramifications on her upcoming television show." Nick pointed out.

On a roll, he continued. "I'm guessing that what they did to Daniel weighed on Jack for the past fifteen years. When Rebekah called him, I think that changed everything for him and he realized it wasn't too late to make things right. Remember, she told us that he said that things were about to change. I'm thinking that he decided to come clean about what they'd done to Daniel. He let Victoria know about it and she didn't like the idea. I bet it would have been easy for an intelligent woman like Victoria to say just the right thing to Freddie to get him on her side."

"So she'll pay someone to commit murder for her in order to cover up the fact that she was part of a group that teased a boy to the point that it drove him to kill himself. Yea, that makes sense." Warrick said sarcastically, shaking his head.

An idea suddenly occurred to Nick. "Perhaps this is the reason why Jack and his friends drifted apart after graduation. Excluding Rebekah who had already left the group, there's a good chance that they were all in on it. Being together all the time would have been a constant reminder of what they'd done. They didn't want to admit to anyone outside of their group what had happened and they probably didn't want to talk about it, but it was just too hard to stay together with that knowledge hanging over them."

Warrick patted Nick on the back. "I like that. It makes sense to me. That would make Linton's murder more than just an attempt to frame him. Freddie and his financial backer, most likely Victoria, were tying up a loose end."

Nick nodded. "I bet if we had known about the connection to Daniel before Linton's death, he would have told us everything without hesitation if he thought it would have helped us solve the case."

Sara chose this moment to burst into the room with her own revelation. "Freddie McFarlane deposited a check for $250,000 into his checking account last month."

"Was it from Victoria Winston?" Nick asked eagerly.

"No. It was a third party check. I'm working on getting an actual name for you. Did you already crack the case?" the brunette asked, a trace of disappointment in her voice.

"In theory, most likely, but we have no physical evidence so we need that name." Nick reassured her and then switched his gaze to Warrick. "And we need to get Dr. Winston to come in and talk to us."

"What about Stella Barnes?" Warrick asked. "Victoria's a cool customer and is most likely not going to crack under our assumptions, but if Stella knows anything, we might be able to get something out of her or at the very least, get a feel as to whether or not we're barking up the wrong tree."

Nick chewed this thought over. "I have a better idea."

* * *

Nick's idea had been to ask both Victoria and Stella to come down and discuss Daniel Motz. He wanted to get both women in the same room, at the same time, and then observe their behavior. He was interested to see if their body language or the way in which they interacted with one another would tell them anything. 

From a distance, Nick and Warrick stood watching them.

Victoria had arrived before Stella and had seated herself on the couch. She pulled out a magazine and sat patiently, acting as if she were merely waiting to get her hair done. She looked as cool and as calm as she had appeared the first time they had met her and not as anxious as one would be expected to appear after being called in to answers questions regarding her involvement in a murder. Nick was beginning to wonder if the woman possessed a moral conscience at all.

When Stella arrived, she sat on the opposite end of the couch that Victoria was occupying. Unlike her friend, Stella was unable to sit still. She kept fidgeting in her seat, shooting glances every now and then at Victoria but made no effort to actually speak to her. Victoria appeared not to have noticed Stella's arrival or was doing her utmost to ignore her.

The CSIs let the women sit in this manner for a few minutes before going out to get them. As one, they walked out into the lobby. They had decided to split up, each taking one woman. Nick was in charge of Victoria and Warrick was in charge of Stella.

"Dr. Winston? If you'll please follow me, there are a few questions I'd like to ask you." Nick addressed the woman as politely as he could.

She told up and followed in Nick's retreating footsteps, while Stella nervously watched her depart.

"Ms. Barnes, if you would come with me that would be great." Warrick nodded to Stella, who stood up quickly at his request.

Warrick led her to the interrogation room that was next door to the one Nick and Victoria were occupying.

"You wanted to ask me about Daniel Motz?" Stella asked, somewhat uncertainly.

"Yes. We have reason to believe that there's some connection between him and Jack's death." Warrick told her as he monitored her facial features.

"Oh?" she asked, playing with a strand of her black hair. "Why do you say that?"

"Right before he killed himself, Freddie confessed to the murders of Jack and Linton. He then told me and my partner that Daniel Motz was directly related to his death. He did not do this on his own. He had a partner, someone who provided him with the financial incentive to do it." Warrick was past the point of trying to spare Stella's feelings. He figured by her behavior that she knew something and he wanted to impress upon her the seriousness of this situation in hopes that she would tell him what he wanted to know.

"Freddie killed Jack because of Daniel? And Linton too?" Stella sat up straight in her chair.

'We have reason to believe that Jack and Freddie indirectly played a part in Daniel's suicide." Warrick told her.

Stella shook her head in disbelief and began to fidgeted with her hands, which were resting on the table. "How's that possible?"

"We think they told Daniel that Victoria had feelings for him because they knew that he was in love with her. We think they played a prank on him in that vein, which he did not take well and he killed himself." Warrick paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in before asking, "Do you know anything about this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Stella told him, not meeting his eyes. "If they played a prank on him, I didn't know about it."

Warrick leaned forward and said rather delicately, "We know that it was a woman who paid Freddie to kill Jack and we're assuming that's because Jack wanted to come clean about what happened to Daniel. We think that woman is Victoria Winston. She wouldn't want to risk the exposure of her role in a prank that lead to a suicide. Ms. Barnes, if you know anything, now's the time to say something."

For a split second, Stella seemed about to say something, but instead, she gave a small chuckle. "Can't tell you something when I don't know anything."

In the next room, Nick was attempting to break Victoria's cold exterior, but it was proving a difficult challenge.

"Dr. Winston, did you know that Daniel Motz was in love with you?" Nick asked bluntly.

"Daniel Motz? You mean the quiet, dark-haired boy? The poet? No, I had no idea that he had those kind of feelings for me." Victoria told him.

Nick's look of disbelief told her clearly that he thought. "I think Freddie and Jack knew. I think they took advantage of those feelings and played a prank on him. A prank that had such drastic effects on him that he killed himself. What's more, we think that you had a role in the prank. You were, after all, the object of his affection."

"Look, Freddie was my friend and I cared him, but he could be a real jerk. He had a tendency to pick on kids, even Linton, when Jack wasn't around. Jack really kept Freddie in line. I suppose it's possible that Freddie teased Daniel to the point of suicide, but I had no part in it. I don't know anything." Victoria's tone was calm but incredibly forceful, her eyes showing no sign of weakness.

Nick scoffed a bit at her reply. "Come on, Doctor. You did everything together. You knew each other's business. You think that Freddie and Jack would be involved in something this serious and you wouldn't know about it?"

It appeared that Victoria had grown tired of Nick's questions. "Mr. Stokes, do you have any evidence that would prove your theory? Do you have one shred of proof to link me to this case? Anything?"

Nick kept his eyes locked on hers but remained silent. He had nothing and she knew it.

She smiled coolly and stood up. "Then I guess we're done here."

She marched out of the room, brushing past Warrick who had just let Stella leave. Warrick entered the interrogation room and sat down next to his partner.

Taking in the expression on Nick's face, he said, "So I guess your interview went about as well as mine."

"Honestly, I didn't really expect her to crack, but I was kinda hoping she tip her hand a bit." Nick admitted. "You got nowhere with Stella, huh?"

Warrick shook his head in defeat. "I'd be willing to bet my next paycheck that she knows something if not everything, but she's not spilling. Not right now anyway."

"We're not going to get anywhere without that name." Nick said, massaging his stomach as it gave a rumble. "Man, I'm starved."

"When was the last time you ate?" Warrick asked.

"I dunno. What's food?" Nick said with a thoughtful smile. When was the last time he ate? Sometimes the thought of food completely escaped his mind while he was working on a tough case like this one.

"Go get something to eat and I'll see if I can give Sara a hand." Warrick told him.

Nodding in appreciation, Nick left the interrogation room.

* * *

Sometime later, Nick was waiting his turn in the drive-thru at the local burger place. It was eight o'clock, but the line was still ten cars long. He had to smile at the wonder of it all. Nothing comes between people and their fast food. 

Except for maybe one thing.

Nick's cell phone began to ring and he grabbed it. Not recognizing the number, he answered, "Stokes."

"Is this Nick from the crime lab?" the female asked.

"Yes, who is this?" he asked.

"This is Stella. Stella Barnes. I need to talk to you. It's urgent." her voice conveyed extreme worry.

Nick wondered vaugely how she had gotten ahold of his cell phone number, but instead, he asked, "What is this about?"

Stella ignored his question. "Please, I need your help! She's gonna kill me!"


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Nick could feel his heart start to pound in expectation. "Who? Who's going to kill you?"

"Victoria! I'm the only one who knows the truth!" Stella was practically shrieking on the other end of the phone.

"The truth about what?" Nick asked. Stella was obviously ready to tell him everything she knew and he was more than ready to hear it.

"It's about Daniel. I want to tell you what happened." she confided to him.

"Why didn't you tell my partner what you knew when you were talking with him? You acted as if you didn't know anything." Nick asked.

Stella started speaking in a rapid tone, her voice growing more shrill as she spoke. "I couldn't do it there! She was there! I was afraid for my life! I didn't realize that Daniel had any connection to Jack's death but when I found out what happened to Linton and Freddie and then you started asking about Daniel, I put the pieces together. She's gonna kill me! I know it! I'm the only one who can tell you the truth! Please! You have to believe me!"

"Okay, okay. Where are you?" Nick asked.

"I'm at Lover's Leap." she told him.

Lover's Leap, the place where Daniel committed suicide. Was there a deeper significance to that location?

"Okay. I'll get my partner and we'll meet you there." Nick told her.

"No! No! There isn't time! You must come now! You're the only one I trust! Please, you have to come now!" Stella implored him.

Nick quickly weighed his options. If he took too long, Stella might decide not to tell him everything she knew. On the other hand, if he took off to Lover's Leap alone after what happened with Freddie, Brass would not be pleased. He decided to risk the detective's unhappiness for the sake of getting a confession.

"Okay. I'm on my way. I'll be there as soon as possible." he promised. Nick pulled out of the drive-thru line and he made his way down the road.

Pulling out his cell phone again, he called Warrick. "Hey, I'm going to be a bit late coming back to the lab. I'm headed up to Lover's Leap."

Warrick did not bother to mask his surprise. "What? Why?"

"I just got a call from Stella Barnes. She knows the truth and wants to tell me. She's waiting for me there." Nick told his partner.

"Are you kidding me?" Warrick asked.

"No. She claims that her life is in danger." Nick continued.

"So you're just gonna drive up there and save the day?" Warrick asked.

"Hey, she was already there when she called and she's in a fragile mental state. I'm not about to say no to a woman who can tie all of our loose ends together, especially when she's afraid for her life. Given how our suspects have been dying off, I figured that I ought to take her concerns seriously." Nick said somewhat annoyed.

"You want me to back you up?" Warrick asked, switching immediately from the hesitant nay sayer to the supportive partner.

"No. Just confirm that Victoria authorized that third party check." Nick told him. "I see you back at the lab."

* * *

Nick began to head towards Lover's Leap with great anticipation. He was willing to accomodate Stella's quirky demand if it meant getting the truth. He just hoped that she wasn't planning on giving him the run-around. He was tired of all the games and the half-truths. Nothing was as it seemed in this case. Indeed, he couldn't believe that the death of Jack Moyer had lead to the deaths of two of his friends and all of it centered around the shady circumstances surrounding a suicide that took place fifteen years ago. The CSI hoped that Stella would be completely honest with him. 

Nick sighed. Why couldn't people just tell the truth? It made things so much easier when people were honest. He had to remind himself though that the truth was often times painful and most people desperately wanted to avoid pain at all costs. He didn't know how he would have reacted in Jack's situation, but he didn't think he'd be capable of hiding his involvement in a suicide for fifteen years. The ability to deceive had never been one of his strong points and he felt confident that his parents, or anyone for that matter, would have sensed immediately that something was wrong. If by some chance, he had managed to keep it a secret, he knew that his guilt would have eaten away at him over the years, like Jack's must have done to him.

Finally reaching his destination, Nick pulled off the road and into a parking space. There was one other vehicle occupying a space and he assumed that it belonged to Stella. It was still quite a hike to Lover's Leap, but he took off at a rapid pace. He stumbled a bit as he made his way up an incline. It was difficult to see through the thickness of the trees and he had not brought a flashlight with him.

Nick finally stumbled out of the trees and caught a glimpse of Stella standing on the edge of the cliff. She was bathed in moonlight, a sight which nearly took Nick's breath away.

Stella turned at the sound of his footsteps, her face stricken with panic. When she saw that it was him, her panic melted away into relief and she rushed forward and threw her arms around him.

"Oh thank God! It's you! I was afraid it was her!" she cried frantically.

Nick, though not opposed to having a beautiful woman throw herself at him, knew that this was not the reason he came out here and gently extracted himself from Stella's grasp. "There's something you want to tell me?"

"Oh yes. I knew that you would understand. That you would be willing to come to me." she told him, looking deep into his eyes. "I knew that we connected the other day. We shared a moment. I'm sure you felt it as well. You're the only one that I can trust, the only one that I feel safe with. Please help me."

"I'll be happy to help you, but in order to do that, you have to tell me what you know." Nick told her calmly.

"Oh there's so much to say! I don't know where to begin!" Stella regained her frantic tone.

Nick sighed inwardly and tried to remain understanding. He could sense that it was going to take a great effort on his part to keep Stella focused.

"Okay, first off, why don't you tell me why you came here?" Nick asked. He knew that this was where Daniel committed suicide but he wasn't sure if this place held a greater significance.

Stella stared at him wide-eyed. "Because this is where it happened! This is where Daniel was killed!"

Her choice of words struck Nick as odd.

"Killed?" he repeated. "Daniel committed suicide. He jumped off this cliff."

"No." Stella shook her head. "He didn't jump. He was murdered."

* * *

"So, on a scale from one to ten, how anxious are you to get this case over with?" Sara asked Warrick. 

"An eleven." Warrick sighed. "I can't take any more surprises. I just want to wrap this thing up before the end of the shift."

Sara sighed sympathetically and rested a hand on Warrick's arm.

"Now, if this fax would just come through, we'd get the proof we need to link Victoria to the murder of Jack Moyer." Warrick shot the fax machine a dirty look as if it were deliberately withholding the evidence.

The fax machine decided that it was time to grant Warrick the object of his desire. It emitted a beep, announcing the arrival of the long-awaited fax.

"At last." Warrick cried. He moved towards the table and grabbed the paper.

As he looked at the paper, his face clouded over with concern. Sara was immediately at his side.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Oh no." he breathed. The man took off like a shot out of the lab, leaving Sara behind in confusion.

Warrick didn't take the time to notify anyone of where he was going or what he was doing. He just needed to get to his car. He needed to get to Nick.

* * *

"What do you mean he was murdered?" Nick asked, surprised. 

Once again, he had been thrown for a loop. Things were becoming much more sinister and yet much clearer. If Victoria had been an accomplice to murder, there would be no way she would want the truth exposed. Of course she would have Jack killed to protect herself.

"He was murdered! Thrown off this ledge!" Stella told him. "I was here! I saw it happen!"

She walked away from him, staring down at the depths below. She teetered on the edge, as if remembering the event which Nick imagined that she must be.

"Tell me." He walked closer to her and put his arm around her, gently pulling her away from the ledge. "Tell me everything."

"We knew, all of us, that Daniel was in love with Victoria. I could never figure out why exactly, but there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he was. The idea that someone like Daniel cared for her and even dared to believe that one day they would be together made Victoria sick. She was always so arrogant, believing herself to be better than everyone else." Stella clutched on to Nick as if her very life depended on it.

"It was all her idea - getting Daniel to come up here. She wanted to teach him a lesson. Rebekah never would have let it happen if she'd been around but she wasn't and Jack was so depressed. He wasn't thinking clearly otherwise he never would have let it happen either." She suddenly let go of Nick and walked towards the trees.

"The four of us, Jack, Freddie, Linton, and me, where hiding behind the trees, watching everything that happened. We saw Daniel arrive and come up to greet Victoria. He started talking to her, saying how much he cared for her. He even started to recite some poem that he'd written for her. Victoria went along with it for awhile, pretending that she felt the same way he did. The four of us thought it was quite funny. At first."

After saying this, Stella moved away from the trees and walked towards the ledge. Her face had a vacant expression. She seemed to have no control over what she was saying. The words just poured forth from her mouth.

"Then something happened. Something changed. Daniel said something about them being as one. Victoria took offense at this and dropped the charade. Her whole demeanor changed. She got angry with Daniel, shouting that they would never be together. They were not equals. He was not fit to wipe dirt off of her shoes." She paused and turned to look at Nick, her eyes wide and fearful.

"I'd never seen her like that before. It terrified me. Then Victoria struck Daniel across the face and pushed him. He stumbled backwards towards the ledge. He did not defend himself against her. I don't know if he was unable to or unwilling to. He just looked so heartbroken. She kept shouting at him and pushing him. I didn't realize what was happening until it was too late, but Jack darted forward, yelling for Victoria to stop but she didn't. Instead, she turned to look at Jack and then gave one final push and Daniel went tumbling over the ledge." Her beautiful face was contorted in agony, complete with silent tears streaking down her porcelain face.

"It was awful. She killed him in cold blood and we watched her do it."

Nick stood there, paralyzed by Stella's haunting tale. He knew he shouldn't have been surprised by the tale of cruelty that had just been related to him. He heard things like this every day, but there was something so spine-tingling about the way Stella had given her account of the murder.

The sound of his cell phone going off shattered the silence that had settled between them.

"Stokes." he answered, turning away from Stella's haunted face.

"Nick! Man, you're in trouble." Warrick's anxious voice greeted him.

"What do you mean?" Nick asked, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.

"We found out who authorized that third party check. It wasn't Victoria Winston." Warrick told him.

"Who did it?" Nick asked, already fearing the answer.

"It was a company check belonging to Flight of Fancy Theater Company. Nick, that woman you're with is dangerous." Warrick warned. "Are you armed?"

"No." Nick told his partner. He hadn't felt the need to arm himself to go to the drive-thru. He heard Warrick swear in response to this revelation.

"Okay. Don't tip your hand. I'm coming up there and I'm bringing reinforcements. Be careful and hold on." Warrick said.

"I understand." Nick replied. He ended the call and turned to look at Stella. She was watching his face closely which made it even harder for him to keep it unconcerned.

"What's wrong?" she asked, taking a step towards him.

Nick fought the urge to take a step back. He didn't like the idea of allowing Stella to close any more distance between them, but recoiling would make him look suspicious.

"Oh, that was just my partner. He was just keeping me up to date about an issue at work." Nick tried to act nonchalantly but felt that he was failing miserably.

"Hmmm. I don't buy it. I guess you can't act." Stella mused, taking another step forward. "Something's happened."

It wasn't a question.

Nick kicked his mind into overdrive in an attempt to think of something convincing to say.

"It's nothing. Just something regarding another case. He..." Nick started to say, but never got the chance to finish.

Stella went rigid and her eyes grew wide. "I will not let you win." she cried determinedly.

With lightening speed, she reached into her jacket, pulled out a gun, and aimed it at Nick.

* * *

**Author's Note: Just wanted to thank everyone who has left feedback for me. I really appreciate it.**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Nick's senses suddenly went on full alert. He couldn't believe that this was happening. It was only two days ago that Freddie had held Warrick at gunpoint and that had been bad enough seeing his friend being held at the mercy of a disturbed individual. Now, here he was in an all too familiar situation.

Alone. Again.

Honestly, he wasn't sure which situation was worse - being the one trying to save a friend in a hostage situation or being the one with the gun pointing at him. Neither qualified in his mind as a good time.

The CSI held his hands up in a sign of good faith. "Just wait, Stella. Put the gun down. I'm not going to hurt you."

Admittedly, he felt a bit foolish as he said this. After all, she was the one with the gun and he was unarmed. He cursed himself for his foolishness. If this case had taught him anything, it was that things were never what they seemed. He shouldn't have come here alone. He shouldn't have taken it for granted that Stella was innocent. He had no one to blame but himself.

Stella took no notice of Nick's words, and he suddenly realized that she was not looking at him at all. She was focused on something just past him. Following her gaze, Nick turned and saw Victoria emerging from the woods.

_"Now what?" _Nick wondered. Things just went from horribly wrong to incredibly confusing. What was going on?

"Mr. Stokes!" Victoria cried out in concern. "Are you alright? She didn't hurt you, did she?"

Nick was surprised by her concern for his safety and was about to answer when Stella interrupted. "Oh don't try and play the hero! That role doesn't suit you! You're a murderer, Victoria! You're responsible for the deaths of at least three people! Don't pretend to care about him!"

Victoria moved closer and held her hands up as Stella had the barrel of the gun trained on her. Victoria's composed demeanor contrasted sharply with Stella's almost wild look.

"Really? I'm not the guilty one, Stella. We both know that. I'm not the one threatening people at this very moment. I'm not the one with the gun." Victoria's eyes were wide, but she kept her voice calm.

"This is here for my protection! I'm not going to let you do to me what you did to Daniel! And Jack! And Linton! Your hand may not have dealt the death blow to Jack and Linton but you're responsible for their deaths! You made Freddie do it! I'm not going to let you kill me too!" Stella shouted, madly waving the gun in the air.

"That's not true. I would never do such a thing." Victoria looked at Nick. "I did not write that check. You have to believe me."

Nick pressed his lips into a thin line of determination. He wasn't going to stand here and keep quiet about what he knew, not when these two women were hurtling insults at each other. He wanted to get to the truth.

Looked at Stella, he said, "She didn't pay Freddie. He deposited a $250,000 check over a month ago. That check was from you."

Stella stared dumbfounded at Nick, completely shocked. "What are you talking about? I never paid Freddie anything! I don't have that kind of money! Victoria does!"

"You did pay him. We got a copy of the check. It belonged to your theater company." Nick told her bluntly.  
Stella's face blanched. "I didn't authorize that check."

The gun faltered in her hand a bit as she stared wide-eyed at Victoria. "You set me up. You've been planning this all along, haven't you? You wanted me to take the fall for this. I can't believe it. I thought we were friends."

Mustering her strength, Stella shifted her eyes to Nick. "Victoria is my silent partner. She practically owns my entire company! I told you that I don't have a head for business! I knew I couldn't run the company myself and Victoria offered to help. She began to buy it from me over the years, but I remained the face of the company. She would have authorized the check. Not me."

Nick looked at Victoria, uncertain. There was no way to verify Stella's claim right now given their location.

"Is that true?" he asked, carefully studying her face.

"Yes, it is. I am a silent partner." Victoria admitted. "But I did not authorize that check."

Still suspicious, Nick asked, "If you knew what she had done, why didn't you say something sooner? Why did you wait till now?"

"I didn't realize that this was all about Daniel until you told me you had some questions about him." Victoria shook her head in dismay. "I didn't put the pieces together. If I had, maybe some lives could have been spared. I knew that you were looking at me because Daniel had been in love with me, but I knew you didn't have any proof. Physical evidence is more credible than a verbal eye witness account. I wanted to help you, to find some proof of what Stella had done, but I couldn't risk acting like I knew anything. I didn't want Stella to come after me."**  
**  
"No, Nick! You can't believe a word of what she's telling you! You heard the truth from me! You believed me a few minutes ago! You promised to help me!" Stella cried.

Nick hesitated, uncertain of what to do. Victoria's words had an air of credibility to them, but he wasn't sure what to believe. Victoria had a logical answer for everything while Stella's answers contained more verbal accusations than reasons for belief. Nick reminded himself that the woman who had planned this whole situation was calculating and had undoubtedly adopted a role she believed would save herself in a situation like this. So, was she the woman who seemed to be calm and rational, providing answers to his questions or was she the woman who seemed to be ruled by her outraged emotions, playing the frightened and desperate woman card?

"She got to you, didn't she? Told you some incredibly moving, elaborate tale with great description?" Victoria asked, the tiniest trace of desperation creeping into her voice. "Mr. Stokes, you cannot trust this woman. She is a liar and a manipulator. She's an actress. She makes a living from deceiving others. Believe me. No one's as good an actress as Stella. She has the awards to prove it."

"How dare you! I'm not the liar! I'm not the manipulator! You're the one who lured poor Daniel up here and then pushed him off the ledge!" Stella cried.

She moved towards Victoria, who backed away by circling behind Nick. Stella did likewise and suddenly, Nick found himself in the middle of their circle. Their eyes stayed locked on each other and Stella did not lower her gun. Nick kept himself moving as well so as to not complete take his eyes off each woman for more than a few seconds. It was a quite unnerving thing to be circled like that. Nick felt like a zebra about to pounced upon by lions.

"That is not true. I could never do that. It doesn't make sense for me to do that." Victoria said evenly. She then addressed Nick. "I'll be honest with you. I never paid attention to Daniel. He was too far below me to warrant my attention. Why, then, would I go out of my way to humiliate him? That would be a waste of my time."

"You never found humiliating people to be a waste of your time! You reveled in it! It's in your nature to be cruel! I'll never forget the way you treated poor Rebekah. She never did anything to you and you treated her horribly." Stella countered.

Victoria's eyes flashed at the mention of Rebekah's name, which reminded Nick just how cruelly Victoria had spoken of Rebekah during their first interview.

"Rebekah Prescott has no place in this discussion." Victoria breathed heavily. "This is about you and your attempt to cover up the murder of Daniel Motz. A murder you committed! I will not let you get away with it! I will not let you get away with Jack's murder! I will not let you get away with Linton's murder! You had a hand in it all and I will be damned if I let you escape unscathed!"

"You're insane!" Stella shouted angrily. "Why would I kill Daniel? I had no reason to! He was in love with you, not me!"

Victoria smiled at this. "Yes and that was the problem, wasn't it? You couldn't stand the thought that someone wasn't in love with you - that someone would pick me over you. I took some of your spotlight and that's something you don't like to share, do you? Everything was always about you, Stella. You always had to be the center of attention! It's still true today! You lured this poor man out here and put on some huge performance to try and frame me, while painting yourself as some tragic figure. You always were a bit over the top, Stella."

Victoria shouted at Nick. "How do you think they got Daniel to believe that I felt the same way he did? Daniel wasn't going to believe Freddie, the guy with a reputation for being a jerk! He wasn't going to believe Jack if Freddie was with him! No! They needed a girl to be the lure! They needed someone who could play the role of confessor convincingly enough to get poor Daniel to meet them at Lover's Leap! They needed an actress! They needed Stella!"

"Don't let her sway you with her words! She's trying to trick you! That's what she does! She gets inside your head and twists your thoughts until you believe things you never thought you would! She did that to us! She made us believe that we'd be better off not telling the truth about what happened to Daniel! That no one would ever guess the truth because no one cared enough about someone like Daniel! She tricked us into silence and made us accessories to murder so that if we ever decided to tell the truth, we'd end up in jail!" Stella accused.

Nick's head was spinning. He wasn't sure who to believe. After all that he had learned during this case about the people involved, his gut still liked Victoria for the murder of Daniel Motz. She had a clearer motive. It made more sense, but nothing about this case had made sense at first glance. He knew that Stella could be deceiving him. She was an actress after all. She could be in the middle of giving the performance of a lifetime. There was no way to be certain.

Instead of making a judgement call, he decided to deal with the most pressing matter at hand.

"Stella, I need you to lower the gun." he told her calmly.

Stella stopped circling Nick and looked at him, stunned. "No! You don't believe her, do you? You can't! She's lying!"

"If you want me to trust you, you have to show me that you deserve it. Put the gun down." Nick's eyes pleaded with hers.  
Stella hesitated, but finally lowered the gun. She tossed it a few feet away.

Nick nodded in appreciation as he began to move closer to her. "There. That's better now we can..."

His words were drowned out by the sound of shot being fired. Stella's body jerked back, causing her to stumble. Nick instinctively reached out to grab her. Cradling her in his arms, they sunk to the ground.

Blood was rapidly pouring from a wound in the center of her chest. It stained her clothes and flowed onto Nick's shirt and jeans. He applied pressure to the wound but knew in his heart that it was a futile gesture. Stella's skin was growing paler with every second. She grabbed his wrist and looked up into his face.

"I'm sorry." she gasped. Her eyes conveyed such deep sorrow as she begged for forgiveness for getting him into this situation.

"Don't be." He smiled and smoothed her black hair with his hand in a gesture of compassion. It was the least he could do for a dying woman.

She gave him a tiny smile and then her eyes closed for the last time.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. He held the body of Stella in his arms, staring at her face which was beautiful even in death. Though he had not been particularly fond of her, Nick could not help but pity her now. She had tried to do the right thing, to make up for the secret she had harbored for the past fifteen years, just like Jack. She had paid a steep price in the pursuit of redemption.

She had known that her life was in danger and had begged for his help and he had let her down. Nick felt a wetness on his cheeks and wiped the hand that was not sticky with Stella's blood across his face.

Nick heard a noise behind him and the gravity of his situation struck him with full force. He turned his head and saw Victoria approaching him with a gun in her hand.

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm posting earlier thanusualbecause I'd like to be done before Thanksgiving. Still have a bit more to do but I think it'll happen. Again, thank you for the reviews. It's nice to know that people are enjoying my story.**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Move away from the body." Victoria ordered, indicating where she wanted him to go with her gun.

Gently, Nick laid Stella's body on the ground and stood up. He walked a few feet away from the body and stood still, waiting to see what Victoria's next move would be.

"On your knees and put your hands behind your head." she barked.

Nick hesitated, not sure if he was ready to give in to her demands.

Victoria was not willing to ask twice.

A shot rang out and Nick felt the bullet slam into his right thigh, forcing him to his knees. Fighting the urge to cry out in pain, he settled instead for glaring defiantly at Victoria.

"Hands behind your head." Victoria repeated.

This time, Nick complied. He didn't want to suffer any more injuries that might make it difficult for him to get out of this situation alive. He tried to ignore the way his entire leg was throbbing and the tickling sensation the flow of blood was creating.

"Thank you for making my task much easier, Mr. Stokes. It would have been difficult to pull a gun on Stella while she was pointing one at me." She gave him a smile that made his blood boil.

"Frankly, I didn't think you'd be that easy to manipulate." Victoria's characteristically condescending tone was back. It was quite clear that she was enjoying the turn of events.

"What do you expect to do now?" Nick asked, trying not gasp. "What's your brilliant next step? You're never going to get away with this."

He groaned inwardly after his last words. He'd just delivered one of the most cliched lines in the book. Why couldn't he have thought of something more clever to say?

"By the time your bodies are discovered, I will be long gone." Victoria smirked confidently.

Time.

Warrick.

Victoria didn't know that Warrick was on his way to Lover's Leap with reinforcements. This thought revitalized Nick. He just needed to give Warrick more time. To do that, he needed to keep Victoria distracted from her desire to kill him. He tried to remember how much time had passed since Warrick called, but he seemed to have lost all track of time. He would just have to do his best and hope that it was good enough.

"I want to see if I've got this all straight. You and Jack met at the reunion, and I have no doubt that you did your utmost to convince Jack to keep quiet about Daniel. After all, the ramifications of Jack's confession would ruin your big plans for the future. All that fame and prestige you had garnered for yourself would be lost and you'd be regulated to tabloid gossip. You couldn't let that happen. That's why you made sure Freddie was on your side, waiting in the darkness to pull the trigger if things didn't go your way. You wouldn't dream of sullying your hands with Jack's blood and you knew that Freddie, who's life had fallen apart, could be bought. Freddie did all of your dirty work for you. I'm confident that you instructed Freddie to plant the gun in Linton's home, but how did you know that he had turned the gun in?" Nick asked. That was the one uncertain piece in his mind.

"I called the fool to see how things were going. I knew you had been questioning him. He told me right away that someone had planted a gun in his home and that he assumed that it was the murder weapon. He babbled incoherently for the longest time but I managed to catch that he had turned the gun in to you. While I was highly annoyed by this, I decided to salvage the situation the only way I knew how." Victoria told him.

"You sent Freddie over to take care of it. I'll be honest with you. We probably would have dismissed Linton's death as a suicide were it not for the insistency of Rebekah. Once we took a closer look, the evidence clearly pointed to Freddie." Nick said.

"Yes, Freddie was a disappointment. It just goes to prove that if you want something done right, you'd better do it yourself." Victoria narrowed her eyes and tightened her grip on the gun.

Nick could sense impending danger and immediately jumped to a new topic. "So I'm assuming that Stella's version of what happened was true. She said that you lured Daniel up here and let him go on and on about how much he loved you while Stella, Jack, Freddie, and Linton watched from the trees over there."

Victoria's face clouded over. "That pathetic boy had the nerve to assume that I could ever love him, that I would dare to lower myself to his level. He needed to be taught a lesson, to be put in his place."

Nick shook his head in disbelief. "You made a fool out of him and then you killed him. Just because he loved you."

"He was not worthy of my love." Victoria spat.

"No, he wasn't like Jack, was he?" Nick adopted a mocking tone as he said this. Deep down, he knew it wasn't a wise idea to make Victoria angry - he had a bullet in his leg to testify to that - but his anger was rising to such a level that it overwhelmed his common sense and any pain from his injury that he was suffering. He was tired of Victoria's air of superiority. He wasn't going to put up with it any more.

Nick rushed on, not allowing Victoria to speak. "Jack was an equal in every sense of the word. He had a high, respectable status in school. He was intelligent, funny, extremely well-liked, and good-looking. The perfect man for someone like you. Tell me, how mad did it make you to know that he picked a sweet, wholesome girl like Rebekah over you?"

In a swift movement, Victoria struck him across the face with the gun. Nick tasted blood in his mouth but this only made him smile. He allowed himself to enjoy the effects his words were having on the usually composed Victoria Winston.

"I see." he smiled.

"You should not speak about that which you do not know!" she shouted. "He never loved her! He couldn't have!"

"Oh come on! You know he did! He loved her up until the day he died!" Nick taunted. "Rebekah was, and still is, everything that you weren't! Kind! Sweet! Loving! Genuine! She cared about others while you never truly cared about anyone but yourself!"

Victoria struck him again, but this did not stop Nick from speaking his mind.

"What? Did you think that you actually had a chance with him once Rebekah was out of the picture? Did you think that by making him more cruel-hearted like you that he'd miraculously fall in love with you?" Nick's smile mocked Victoria's fury. "Did you think that you'd impress him by masterminding a great prank to play on a poor kid? Did you think that by dragging him down to your level, exposing the darkest regions of your heart to him, that he could understand you and love you the way he loved Rebekah?

"Let me tell you, Dr. Winston," Nick's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Jack did understand you. In that moment, he saw you for who you truly were and it repulsed him. Why do you think he could no longer stand to be in your presence? He could only see your true face and the shame of his own guilt for letting you reveal it."

"Shut up!" Victoria screamed, striking him again.

"The funny thing is, you of all people should have known how this was going to turn out." Nick told her, staring at her furious face without fear.

"Why do you say that?" she asked. Her anger could not overwhelm her curiosity.

"Why, that best-selling book of yours should have told you so!" Nick's eyes twinkled in amusement. "From the first moment I started this case, I kept hearing about what a wonderful person Jack was. He was a decent, kind man who treated everyone with respect. He was nothing like you. The truth about what happened ate at his soul for the last fifteen years until the woman he loved showed him that it wasn't too late to make things right. He was willing to go to jail in order to have a clean conscience because that's the kind of person Jack was. You should have known that. You knew what he was like in high school. You couldn't make him like you back then and you couldn't do it now. That night was one rare instance of a guy so torn up emotionally that he made a terrible mistake, but that didn't change who he was deep down. Everybody makes mistakes."

Nick dropped his voice to quiet, more intense decibel. "But you see, I think your theory is flawed. Look at what happened here tonight. Stella Barnes, who was described as being self-centered, vain, and flighty in high school, risked her life to expose the truth about what happened. She knew the consequences but she chose to do the right thing, a choice that she should not have been able to make according to your theory. Furthermore, you underestimated the bond that Freddie and Jack shared. You should have seen him right before he died. He was so overcome by guilt over his betrayal of Jack. You didn't count on that. You didn't count on him revealing Daniel's name. You assumed that Freddie was as corruptible as you. His suicide must have come as a great shock to you. I will admit that, for a while there, you had me all depressed thinking that I was the exact same person I was in high school. It was such a terribly depressing thought, but a wise man made me see that your premise implies that people can never overcome their insecurities or mend their flaws - that everyone is stagnant. If everyone's stagnant, then no one's growing. If a person's not growing, they are not truly alive. I know I'm alive."

Repeating the words the Warrick had told him a few days ago gave Nick courage. It made him think of how brave Warrick had been when Freddie had him at gunpoint and Nick knew that he must be brave as well. He would speak his mind no matter what the cost.

"Yes it's probably true that some basic character traits, like dependability, don't change, but the mark of a person who is truly alive is by their growth as an individual. I've come to realize that, in essence, I probably am pretty much the same person I was in high school, but what's wrong with that? What's wrong with being dependable? Nothing. I like having people be able to count on me in good or bad times. However, I'm much more than that young kid who was searching for his place in the world. I know where I belong and what I'm meant to do on this earth. I've changed in many ways and yet, stayed very much the same in essence and I wouldn't have it any other way."

Victoria's body had started to shake with fury during his speech. Her eyes blazed with an intensity that was meant to drive fear into Nick's heart, but he was too worked up to be intimidated by it.

"For a man who's about to die, you are either very brave or very stupid." she breathed murderously.

Nick gave a small shrug. "That's just who I am."

Victoria circled him halfway, coming to a standstill just behind him. "Tell me, given your profession, have you given much thought to your own death?"

"Dr. Winston, I'm confronted with my own mortality on a regular basis." Nick steeled his nerves in order to keep his voice steady.

Now that his speech was over, he was starting to notice the intense throbbing in his leg again but he would not let the pain show on his face. He stole a quick glance downwards and saw that the entire front of his pant leg was stained red. He hoped that Warrick was getting closer.

"Does the thought of dying frighten you?" she asked.

Nick could sense that Victoria wanted to punish him for the things he had said to her. She was going to play with his mind before killing him. She was going to put that hard-earned psychology degree to good use and try to break through his confident exterior. Nick was determined not to let her succeed.

"Not as much as it used to." The CSI admitted honestly.

"How's that?" Victoria asked curiously.

"I've come through more than one harrowing situation." he said.

"Tell me." It was not a request.

Nick did not really feel like going into great detail about his life and death struggles with Victoria, but he reminded himself that every second he kept her distracted was another second he remained alive.

"A woman that my supervisor and I had dismissed as a threat pulled a gun on me and had me trapped in the back of her house. She was about to pull the trigger when my supervisor showed up and stopped her." Nick could still see the pathetic look of sorrow in Amy Hendler's eyes.

"Then there was this man who tossed me out of a second story window. Later that day, he crashed through my ceiling and threatened me with a gun. It turned out that he had been stalking me for quite a while. Taking my clothes. Watching me sleep." The face of Nigel Crane swam before him and Nick closed his eyes, willing the face to disappear back into the recesses of his mind.

"What an incredible violation." Victoria whispered happily. "You must still be feeling the effects of it."

Nick remained silent. He would only expose himself so much for the sake of remaining alive. There were some regions of his mind where he refused to let Victoria tread.

She did not respond well to his silence, saying, "Perhaps you are growing tired of this."

"I know I am." a familiar voice called out from in front of them.

Warrick.

Nick's insides were flooded with hope and he could not help but smile at his friend's timely arrival even though he was not yet out of danger.

The moment that Warrick's voice had sounded, Victoria had dropped to her knees and pressed herself up against Nick's back, making use of his body as a shield. She pressed the gun to his temple, knocking Nick's hands out of the way in the process. He let them drop to his side.

"Dr. Winston, this place is about to be swarming with cops. I strongly recommend that you drop that gun right now and move away from my partner." he said forcefully, his own gun held tightly in his hands.

"Or what, Mr. Brown? You'll shoot me? You wouldn't risk hitting your friend here, especially since he's already got one bullet in him." she teased. "Nick and I have been having quite a nice little chat. We're getting to know each other very well."

As she said this, she snaked an arm around his waist and began to stroke his chest playfully. She pressed herself even closer to him, rubbing her body against his back.

"Haven't we, Nicky?" she breathed on his neck, making the tiny hairs on the back of Nick's next stand on end.

It was all Nick could do to keep himself upright. Her hand motions had a far more unsettling reaction on his nerves than the gunshot wound. He did not want this evil woman touching him like that, breathing on his neck. It reminded him of another time when a different girl had touched him like that. He resisted the urge to push her hand away as it would not due to let Victoria know that her touch made him sick. That would only encourage her.

When he felt Victoria's lips brush the back of his neck and her playful hand wander lower, Nick had enough. He was not going to sit here and be fondled in front of his partner. That was one dignity he was not willing to suffer. He'd prefer another bullet.

Pressing his lips together in determination, he launched himself backwards. He landed hard on top of Victoria, who cried out in pain and anger. Ignoring the pain this action caused, he pawed madly for the gun in Victoria's hands. Although he knew that his life depended on it, he did not allowed himself to punch her, it having been so ingrained in him not to hit a woman. Victoria made no such promise and shoved her bony elbow into his face. Despite this effort to distract him, Nick managed to gain the upper hand and was succeeding in his attempt to pry the gun out of her vice-like grip.

He was about to wrench it free when Victoria, sensing danger, slammed her knee into Nick's gunshot wound. The gun went flying through the air as Nick cried out in pain, his vision blurring momentarily. However, he was not giving up that easily. He got to his feet, swaying drunkenly for a few seconds as he tried to locate the gun, and then hobbled forward. Behind him, Victoria let out a savage howl of rage and lunged for him.

Nick thought vaguely that Warrick was shouting at him. His mind would not take the time to decipher his friend's words as he was too busy struggling with Victoria, who was taking full advantage of Nick's weakened state. Suddenly, he comprehended what Warrick had been shouting at him. They were approaching the edge of the cliff. Victoria, blinded by her fury, had taken no notice of their peril and with one final slam into Nick, they toppled over the edge.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

When Warrick had arrived at Lover's Leap, he saw Nick's car and two others. One presumably belonged to Stella, but he didn't take the time to wonder who owned the third car. He began to make his way towards the cliff just as Nick had done not too long ago, but stopped suddenly when a gun shot tore through the night. His heart leapt up into his throat and he was paralyzed momentarily. Seconds later, another shot rang out. He knew Nick wasn't armed but perhaps Stella had been. Perhaps he was too late. 

"Please don't let me be too late!" he pleaded with the air and he took off into through the trees as fast as he could.

Nick had more close-calls than anyone else he'd ever known. They had even joked about it a couple of times. He had kidded Nick about having such bad luck. Always the one who had the gun pulled on him. Always the one tossed out of a window. Always the one with the stalker. But even though he always seemed to be the one in danger, Nick always managed to survive. He had extreme good luck in bad situations which was something that had always amazed Warrick. But now things didn't look so good. Had the famous Nick Stokes luck finally run out?

Running through the thickness of the trees was difficult, but Warrick did the best he could. His friend could be bleeding out, his life fading little by little every second. He needed to find him. Warrick couldn't bear the thought of letting his friend down, not after all Nick had done for him.

Not paying much attention to his feet, Warrick did not notice the root sticking up out of the ground until his foot got caught underneath it. He swore as he went crashing to the ground. However, being stunned by the impact allowed him to hear something that he wouldn't have been able to hear given the way he was rushing madly through the trees.

It was a voice. Not just any voice. It was Nick's voice. He couldn't tell what Nick was saying, but it was definitely his voice. Nick was still alive.

Relief washed over him and Warrick allowed himself a few seconds to calm his nerves before picking himself up again. Instead of resuming his rapid pace, Warrick crept through the trees as quietly as he could. He wasn't sure what he would find when he reached the clearing and he didn't want to announce his presence until he knew exactly what he was walking into.

Ever so carefully, he peaked through the trees and the sight he saw was not the one he had been expecting. Nick was on his knees with his hands behind his head and Victoria Winston was standing behind him with a gun. He saw that Nick's shirt and right pant leg were stained with blood and wondered if his friend was injured. He could see that Nick's lip was busted open and there blood running down his chin. Then his eyes landed on the body of Stella Barnes and he could see that her blouse was soaked in blood as well.

"She must have been shot. The blood on Nick's shirt must be hers. He probably got that while trying to help her. Doesn't make sense for her blood to be on only one pant leg though. He must be wounded as well. Took a bullet somewhere in the leg I'd wager." Warrick reasoned.

Remaining as still as possible, Warrick listened to what Victoria was saying to Nick.

"Tell me, given your profession, have you given much thought to your own death?" Victoria was saying in that cool, condescending tone of hers that Warrick hated.

"Dr. Winston, I'm confronted with my own mortality on a regular basis." Warrick was pleased to hear how steady Nick's voice sounded. He was amazed by his friend's courage.

"Does the thought of dying frighten you?" she asked in a way that chilled Warrick to the bone. There was no doubt in his mind. This woman was evil down to her very core.

"Not as much as it used to." Nick answered.

Warrick could tell that Nick was being honest and not just trying to make himself appear brave in front of the woman holding a gun to his head. He shook his head in wonder. What must it be like to be Nick Stokes? What must it be like to be thrust into one horrible situation after another until it almost became something of a second nature?

"How's that?" Victoria asked curiously.

"I've come through more than one harrowing situation." he said. Warrick noticed that Nick's face had turned slightly pale and he wondered just how badly he was injured.

"Tell me." It was not a request.

"A woman that my supervisor and I had dismissed as a threat pulled a gun on me and had me trapped in the back of her house. She was about to pull the trigger when my supervisor showed up and stopped her. Then there was this man who tossed me out of a second story window. Later that day, he crashed through my ceiling and threatened me with a gun. It turned out that he had been stalking me for a while. Taking my clothes. Watching me sleep." Warrick watched Nick close his eyes briefly, no doubt reliving these painful memories.

Once again, Warrick marveled at Nick's courageousness and his ability to take part in this disturbing conversation without showing any signs of the fear and anxiousness he must have been feeling. He had never seen this side of his friend before. Though he had never considered Nick to be a coward, Warrick had never thought of him as being particularly brave. This was probably due to the fact that Nick didn't go around flaunting his masculinity, proving that he was a tough guy who could handle anything.

Now, he was getting a first-hand taste of the power of Nick Stokes and the quiet, determined bravery he possessed. He was alone and wounded, having the support of no one but himself, and he was staying strong and in control of emotions. Warrick had never seen anything quite like it and it made his heart swell with pride.

"What an incredible violation." Victoria whispered happily. "You must still be feeling the effects of it."

Warrick snapped himself out of his thoughts. He had been so caught up with the scene playing out in front of him that he momentarily forgot the danger his friend as in. Victoria's cruel enjoyment of Nick's past traumas infuriated him. No longer would he wait in the shadows while his friend suffered both physically and emotionally. It was time to do something.

"Perhaps you are growing tired of this." Warrick heard Victoria say. He couldn't have asked for a better way to announce his presence.

"I know I am." he said, stepping out from behind the trees.

Warrick watched Nick's face transform, allowing his true emotions to finally break through the mask. The relief on his friend's face was evident and the smile on his face pleased Warrick. He was glad to see that he had proved worthy of Nick's faith in him.

But Nick was not out of the woods yet.

Warrick hardened his features as Victoria dropped to her knees and pressed herself up against Nick's back, making use of his body as a shield. She pressed the gun to his temple, knocking Nick's hands out of the way in the process. He let them drop to his side.

"Dr. Winston, this place is about to be swarming with cops. I strongly recommend that you drop that gun right now and move away from my partner." he said forcefully, his own gun held tightly in his hands.

There would be no talking this woman into backing down. She was too cold-hearted, too confident, too determined to see her actions through. He could not let his countenance falter.

"Or what, Mr. Brown? You'll shoot me? You wouldn't risk hitting your friend here, especially since he's already got one bullet in him." she teased. "Nick and I have been having quite a nice little chat. We're getting to know each other very well."

As she said this, she snaked an arm around Nick's waist and began to stroke his chest playfully. She pressed herself even closer to him, rubbing her body against his back.

"Haven't we, Nicky?" Her voice was barely audible, but the look on Nick's face spoke loud and clear to Warrick.

Warrick watched his partner's face contort with a mixture of emotions that he didn't quite fully understand. The sight of what Victoria was doing made him sick and he could only imagine what Nick must be feeling as the violated party. This was an intolerable position, one in which Warrick didn't quite know what to do. He didn't know how to fight back. He'd had some training in hostage situations, but he was more prepared for a shoot out than for seeing his friend's dignity being shred to pieces right in front of him. The lower Victoria's hand went, the sicker he felt.

Then he saw Nick's lips form that thin line he knew so well. Instinctively, Warrick knew that Nick was going to make something happen. He didn't blame him. He wouldn't have liked that woman touching him either. But when the struggling started, Warrick was put in an awkward spot. He had no clean shot of Victoria because Nick was on top of her and Warrick was not about to risk hitting Nick.

Warrick's mind was calculating the best way to help his friend while simultaneously taking in the struggle before him. He could rush forward and try to break it up, but he didn't know if that would be the best thing to do or not. The last thing that he needed to have let happen was for Victoria to somehow manage to get his gun away from him. He watched them struggle, hoping that Nick would prevail. Of course, Nick would have a much better chance at prevailing if he quit being a gentleman.

"_Hit the woman, Nick! No one's gonna judge you!" _Warrick thought angrily.

He wasn't sure what had happened, but he heard Nick let out a cry of pain and Warrick saw the gun go sailing through the air. About thirty feet away, he watched his friend stagger to his feet in an attempt to retrieve the gun and was about to move forward to help when Victoria slammed into Nick.

Suddenly, Warrick's senses went on full alert as he took in the full ramifications of the scene playing out before him. Nick and Victoria were too close to the edge and they didn't seem to notice as they struggled with one another.

"Nick! Stop!" he shouted, rushing forward. "You're too close to the edge!"

His warning came too late.

Warrick's heart stopped as he watched his friend plummet over the edge. He had failed his friend. He swayed in his spot, his body threatening to be overtaken by a staggering amount of grief.

He felt completely numb. He couldn't breathe. Time seemed to have stopped altogether. He had been this close to Nick and he had let him go over the edge without lifting a hand to help him. He had just stood there like a fool, watching his friend struggle for his life. So much for repaying the friend who had supported him through his own moment of terror a few days ago.

"Warrick!" The silence of the night shattered all around him.

For the second time that night, he was greeted by a voice he had not expected to hear.

"Help me!"

Hardly daring to believe his ears, his feet carried him to the edge and he peered over.

There was Nick, one white-knuckled hand clutching a rock that was jutting out from the side of the cliff and the other hand clutching Victoria Winston. A few seconds ago, the woman had been trying to kill him and now she was clinging to Nick's wrist for dear life.

Warrick reached down to help his friend, but Nick shook his head.

"No!" he puffed, his neck muscles bulging.

Understanding his meaning, Warrick did not question his friend. It was just like Nick to risk his life to save another, even if she was a murderer. He leaned down on the ledge and stretched his arm out to Victoria.

"Give me your hand!" Warrick ordered Victoria.

She was frantic, coming completely unhinged as she dangled from Nick's wrist. She seemed unwilling to let go.

"Give it to me now!" he shouted more forcefully. "I'm not going to let you fall!"

He bent down lower so that his hand was just a few inches above hers. Slowly, she let go of Nick's wrist and grabbed Warrick's hand.

"Now give me your other one!" he ordered and she complied.

"Now, try to climb up the side of the cliff." he instructed. "I won't drop you. I promise."

Carefully, Victoria managed to climb up the side of the cliff aided by Warrick's strength. While she did this, the CSI stole a quick glance at his partner. Nick's face was red and Warrick noticed that he was having trouble raising his other arm to grab on to the rock to which he was clinging. He did not look like he was going to be able to hold on for much longer.

Warrick redoubled his efforts, pulling Victoria up to the point where the top half of her body was laying on top of the ledge. From behind him, someone called out his name and Warrick turned to see Brass rushing towards him, followed by three uniformed cops.

"Help me!" he cried unnecessarily.

The detective grabbed Victoria and began to pull the woman all the way to safety while Warrick turned his attention to Nick.

"Give me your hand, Nick." Warrick said.

Nick grunted, struggling with his arm which didn't seem to want to obey him. Warrick could see the pain and weariness in his eyes.

"I know it hurts, but it's gonna hurt a lot worse if you don't give me your hand right now. Come on, buddy. You can do it." Warrick encouraged.

Letting out a frustrated cry of pain, Nick forced his arm to swing upwards and he grabbed Warrick's hand.

"That's it." Warrick said as he began to help his friend climb up the side of the cliff. The effort of having to support his full weight on his injured leg caused Nick to grit his teeth in pain, but he endured it.

Slowly. Carefully. Deliberately.

Finally, Nick's top half collapsed on the ground and his friend pulled the rest of him on to solid ground. Warrick forced his friend to stand and half carried him a few feet away from the edge before falling to the ground, exhausted.

Brass had immediately hauled Victoria to her feet and barked out her rights while one of the uniforms cuffed her. Another uniform was bending over the body of Stella while speaking into his radio. The third uniform was wondering the perimeter, making sure that there were no other surprises lurking in the shadows.

"The ambulance is on its way." The detective was too relieved to say anything else to the CSIs, who were panting on the ground in an attempt to calm their nerves. He decided to leave them in peace for the moment and carted his suspect away.

The two men were silent for a few minutes, each too drained to say anything at the moment. Warrick quietly went to work. He stripped off his shirt and began to fashion a tourniquet for Nick's leg. His undershirt did not protect him very much against the chill of the night, but he took no notice. He was too focused on helping his friend.

Finally, Nick spoke through his heavy panting."Thanks for coming. Thanks for pulling me up."

Warrick gave a genuine yet tired smiled. "You know I got your back."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Thankfully, the bullet that pierced Nick's thigh caused no major damage to his leg. He suffered minor blood loss, which would have been more severe were it not for the tourniquet Warrick had applied to his leg. His shoulder had been dislocated due to the strain of holding the full weight of Victoria. All things considered, Nick felt very fortunate. It could have been a lot worse and he knew it.

Nick sat in his hospital bed, fidgeting with his sling. He was waiting for Warrick, who had promised to stop by after the end of his shift and take him home. The man had been to see him numerous times over the past day and a half, and Nick suspected that his friend was still feeling a little bit guilty after all that happened. He hoped that he could find a way to ease Warrick's unfounded guilt.

He looked up at the sound of someone clearing their throat. Expecting to see Warrick, he was surprised to see Grissom standing at the door.

"Hey boss. Come on in and take a seat." Nick greeted cheerfully, waving the man inside the room.

Silently, Grissom entered and sat down in a chair next to the bed. "How are you feeling?" he asked, surveying Nick's somewhat tired appearance.

"My shoulder hurts and my leg hurts, but I'm alive so I can't complain. I am looking forward to getting out of here today." Nick flashed him a small smile.

Truth be told, he was more uncomfortable than in pain. He was tired of sitting in the same position and was excited about the prospect of getting to move around a bit more. There was something that he had been waiting anxiously to do for a while.

"You were very lucky." Grissom stated. "Warrick told me what happened."

"Everything?" Nick asked, feeling a touch of heat creep into his cheeks. It was bad enough that Warrick knew what Victoria had done to him, but to think that Grissom knew as well was unnerving.

"Yes." Grissom nodded. He watched as Nick turned his head away, slightly embarrassed. The supervisor felt a twinge of pity for his CSI. The man had already suffered enough and now he had to endure the shame of knowing that his supervisor had a received a detailed account of it all.

"You did the right thing." Grissom told him. "I know it mustn't have been easy to save her after all that she did, but it was the right thing to do."

"Honestly, Gris, I didn't even think about it. I just did it - a natural reaction." Nick said with a wave of his hand.

Grissom carefully studied the man before him. "Do you regret your natural reaction?"

Nick was silent for a moment as he thought. Was he sorry that he had saved Victoria? Instinctively, he knew the answer to this question. He was not someone who could stand idly by and let someone die, no matter how evil she was.

"No. Not at all." Nick looked up, meeting Grissom's gaze.

This answer seemed to please Grissom. "Nick, I know we don't always see eye to eye on things and you know my concerns about your ability to empathize with victims. It can lead you into danger like it did when you were trying to help Stella Barnes."

Grissom paused and Nick shifted uncomfortably, hoping that Grissom wasn't going to give him too severe a lecture. If Grissom expected a response from him, he wasn't sure what to say. They had covered this ground on more than one occasion and though he could see Grissom's point, Nick could not bring himself to be that which he was not.

His supervisor contined. "However, I know you're a good man. You truly care about people and that's a rare trait. I can always count on you to do the right thing when confronted with those really hard decisions. It's that kind of dependability that makes who you are and I appreciate that."

Nick nodded silently. These words pleased him. He so rarely received praise from his supervisor that he learned to take every word of it to heart since he knew it was genuine. Grissom would never say anything that he didn't mean.

Silence fell between them as Grissom resumed his characteristically taciturn behavior. Nick remained silent as well as he fiddled with his sling, trying to get his arm in a more comfortable position.

"Well, I just wanted to see how you were." the older man stood up abruptly and moved towards the door. He stopped before exiting and turned to face his CSI. "Good job, Nick. Get some rest, okay?"

Feeling somewhat relieved, Nick waved as Grissom departed. He wasn't sure how Grissom was going to respond to the whole dramatic scene on Lover'sLeap and he was glad to see that his boss had chosen to focus on how the situation had been resolved rather than the actions leading up to the resolution.

He leaned his head back on his pillow and was about to close his eyes for a few mintues when he someone called his name. Looking up, he saw Rebekah Prescott standing in his doorway.

"Hi. I didn't want to disturb you while you had company, but I really wanted to speak to you." she confessed a bit nervously.

"Please come in." Nick gave her a smile.

"Mr. Brown stopped by to see me and told me what happened. He told me all about Daniel and Victoria and that you got hurt. I guess I just wanted to thank you. You put yourself in great danger in order to find out the truth and I'm very grateful." Rebekah said awkwardly.

"You know, I suppose that I should be thanking you as well." Nick said.

"Why do you say that?" she asked, taking the seat Grissom had just vacated.

"We put a murderer behind bars because of something you started. If it hadn't been for your phone call to Jack, the truth most likely would never have been revealed. It was you who made Jack see that it wasn't too late to right a wrong. He was willing to go to jail for the sake of doing the right thing. Granted, he wasn't expecting to die, but given the kind of man I know he was, he probably still would have made the same decision. You made Jack want to be a better man. There's no stronger motivation than love in my opinion. Although many people died because of Victoria and people like you will continue to mourn the ramifications of her actions, I know Daniel's mother will find some peace in all this tragedy. That makes my wounds a bit more bearable." Nick told her truthfully.

Rebekah wiped a hand across her tear-stained face and gave him a smile. "You know, you're a lot like him - like Jack was in high school. That's the kind of thing he would have said back then."

"He was still that man. He just got lost." Nick replied quietly. "He found himself in the end."

* * *

When Warrick had finally arrived, they departed the hospital in as much haste as possible. Arriving at the SUV, Nick flung the cane the doctor had made him get in the backseat with great disdain.

"Man, you're supposed to use that." Warrick told him, hiding his smile.

"I don't need it. I'm not some old man." Nick huffed as he prepared to get inside. "My leg is fine. I just need to stretch it. Get used to using it again."

Warrick climbed inside the vehicle and watched his friend heave himself inside as well. He knew Nick was the type to play through the pain and hoped that his friend wasn't going to hurt himself more by refusing to heed the doctor's advice. However, he noted that Nick wasn't grimacing out of pain - just frustration - and felt a bit better.

"Fine, but if you fall on your face I reserve the right to laugh." Warrick teased.

Nick shot him a look before asking, "Did you bring it?"

"Of course. You only called me five times to remind me." Warrick answered as he turned the key in the ignition.

Nick leaned his head against the headrest and closed his eyes. Warrick glanced at him and thought about telling his friend that he should just go home and get some rest, but he knew Nick wouldn't respond well to that. He wanted to be there when Daniel's journal was returned to his mother. He wanted to be there when the details of Daniel's death were explained to her. Warrick understood this. After all, Nick was the one who had made the promise to Marsha Motz.

When they arrived, Nick hopped one-legged out of the SUV and they began to make their way up the path. Warrick knocked on the door and heard footsteps approaching.

Marsha opened the door cautiously and gave a small smile when she recognized who it was.

"Hello gentlemen. It's good to see you again." she moved aside and allowed them to enter.

"We wanted to bring Daniel's journal back to you. It was very helpful to our investigation and I wanted to tell you what we uncovered." Nick told her as they seated themselves in her living room once again.

Nick launched into an explanation of the events that had taken place a few days ago. He told her how they had made a connection between Daniel's poems and one of their suspects. He was selective in the details he gave her as he didn't want to tell her how much her son had been humiliated right before he died. That was something that would not bring her any comfort.

"Daniel didn't committ suicide. He was murdered by a fellow student named Victoria Winston. There were witnesses to his death, but they never came forward until now. Jack Moyer wanted to tell the truth about what happened and Victoria had him killed. The cover up of Daniel's death and Jack's death resulted in the death of three other people." Nick told her.

"How do you know all this?" Marsha asked.

"I had a confrontation with the suspect and everything came out." Nick admitted.

"Is she the one who hurt you? Did she try to kill you like she did my Daniel?" Marsha breathed.

"She tried to, but my partner was there to help me." Nick said.

"You're lucky that you had a friend there who was willing to risk his life for you." Marsha gave Warrick an appraising smile which caused the man to blush.

"Yes ma'am." Nick nodded.

Warrick leaned forwarded and handed Marsha the journal. "Thank you again for letting us use this."

She took the journal and placed it in her lap, running an loving hand across it. "I'm just glad that Daniel was able to help you."

"Mrs. Motz, I know that what we told you isn't going to bring Daniel back or lessen the pain of his absence, but I wanted you to know the truth. Your son didn't end his life. Nothing that happened was your fault. I could tell by some of the things that I read that Daniel loved you very much and he had a happy homelife. The person responsible for what happened is Victoria Winston and she's going to be paying for the crime she committed against your son for a long time." Nick promised her.

Blinking back tears, Marsha gave Nick a smile. "Thank you."

* * *

Warrick had planned on taking Nick home after visiting Marsha Motz, but Nick said he wasn't ready to go back just yet. Instead, he asked Warrick to take him to this diner near the lab that they frequented under the pretense that he needed some real food after ingesting all that hospital food. In reality, Nick felt that there was unsettled business between him and his partner and he wanted to get it sorted out. Given Warrick's tendency for self-flagellation, Nick wanted to make sure that Warrick knew that he wasn't harboring any negative feelings towards him.

"You know we never really talked about what happened on Lover's Leap." Nick said almost casually after they had ordered.

"I guess we didn't." Warrick said, not really keen on talking about this particular subject. He kept reliving the events in his mind. Seeing Nick wounded and pale on his knees but defiant till the end. Seeing Victoria touch Nick as if he was her own personal plaything. Seeing the two of them fight for the gun. Seeing the two of them topple over the edge. It was like a bad nightmare that refused to go away.

Nick could sense that it was going to be difficult to get Warrick to open up about what happened so he tried a more cavalier approach. "All this might have been avoided if I had listened to you. Shouldn't have gone up there trying to save the day. Seems like I'm always getting into trouble, huh? Can't take me anywhere."

Warrick shifted in his seat uncomfortably as Nick spoke. He couldn't let his partner take the blame in all this not when he was the one who had let Nick down. Unbidden, the dam inside him burst forth and his words came tumbling out.

"Look, I should have gone up there immediately to back you up like a good partner. If I'd been there, maybe you would have been spared some of the crap you went through. I'm sorry that you had to go through all that alone. I should have been there with you, but I wasn't." Warrick looked away in regret, disgusted at himself.

"Don't be sorry. I knew you'd come. I was waiting for you and you didn't let me down. You got there when I needed you most." Nick gave his friend an encouraging smile.

"Don't say that. Don't just act like you can make it all go away with a smile. That woman hurt you, said upsetting things to you, put her hands on you. You can't just gloss that over." Warrick said bitterly.

"That's not what I'm doing. Yeah, she did all those things. I won't lie to you. It was terrifying and it was all I could do to keep my emotions in check." Nick leaned forward, staring intently at his friend who wouldn't quite meet his gaze. "But Victoria Winston did those things to me. Not you. You can't blame yourself or feel guilty for the actions of another person. I won't have it. It's completely unfounded. The only thing you're responsible for are your actions that night and you have nothing to be ashamed about. Got it?"

"It's just that you always seem to have to go through these life-or-death situations and you're all alone. Facing this terrible things and yet you're in control of yourself. I don't know how you do that. If I had been through everything you've been through, I might think about getting a new job." Warrick said quietly.

"And give up working with me? I don't think so, man. You rely on me too much." Nick said with a mischievous smile.

Warrick's face broke into a similar smile and he chuckled. Nick was pleased to see Warrick's body become more relaxed. His words seemed to have a good effect on his friend.

"I think you got that backwards." Warrick teased.

"You know, you never finished that story you were telling me about the mime." Nick reminded him. "I'm quite interested in hearing how that harrowing situation turned out."

"Oh yeah. Where was I?" Warrick asked, thinking back to that quiet night in the lab.

"The mime threw that pickle at your head and you responded with a verbal smackdown." Nick remembered.

"Right." Warrick said as he launched into his narrative.

The laughter that rang through the diner over the course of the next hour left both men feeling completely refreshed, proving the old adage true. Laughter is the best medicine for the weary soul. Bad times may come, but the good times shared between friends would remain forever.

* * *

**Author's Note: That's it! I hope you enjoyed my story. It was so much fun to write. I'll be going into hibernation for a bit as I work on my next piece. It's good, ole' fashioned angst - more angst than I've ever written before! So if you like angst, angst, and more angst, look for my next piece.**


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